


Will Save You

by AlElizabeth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 79,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlElizabeth/pseuds/AlElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set late Season 3. Sam is desperate to save Dean from Hell and makes one last-ditch attempt to make a deal with a crossroad's demon. Much to Sam's surprise, the demon agrees to deal and Dean freed from his contract. Sam, however, knows that demons don't give something for nothing but the price isn't at all what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Bet Your Life

Sam stared out the windshield of the Impala, his heart hammering nervously in his chest. He took a deep, steadying breath and opened the vehicle's door, the creak of squeaky hinges sounding extremely loud in the quiet surrounding the young man. Crickets chirruped in the tall grass on the sides of the dirt road and somewhere off in the distance a dog barked.

Sam peered into the interior of the classic Chevy, smiling slightly at the brown paper bag sitting on the passenger seat, his brother's name scrawled on the packaging in black marker. The hunter closed the door softly and walked around to the trunk, his shoes crunching on the bits of gravel on the road.

Sam had told Dean he was going to pick them up some dinner from the small restaurant they had passed on their way into town- and Sam hadn't lied, exactly- but he also had other intentions tonight. A full, bloated moon cast a silvery glow on the world, turning everything ghostly and pale.

Gathering what he needed from the trunk, Sam began walking down the road at a deceptively leisurely pace. He was really just trying to enjoy the sights and sounds around him; the grass jeweled with night dew, the millions of diamond-bright stars, the wind sighing across the field, the singing of the crickets and the mournful calling of an owl.

Sam stopped once he reached the crossroads and his thoughts turned to his brother. Dean would kill him if he knew what he was about to do. Sam grimaced; if it even worked. Dean had been adamant that any form of trying to rescind the deal would end badly. What Dean hadn't remembered though, was that the Winchesters were a stubborn lot and Sam had his fair share of that particular family trait.

Besides, Sam thought to himself as he knelt down and began carefully digging in the very center of the crossroads, it's my fault Dean made that deal in the first place. If I had just been a little bit faster, a little bit smarter, Jake wouldn't have killed me.

Dean never would have let something like that happen, Sam told himself. I'm just a screw up… I've always been a screw up. Dean's the better hunter. He shouldn't have been forced to make that deal in the first place.

Sam wiped surreptitiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket and settled the cigar box into the small hole he'd made.

Dean had weeks left and Sam had finally snapped. He couldn't take the thought of living in a world without his big brother in it. Although Sam had tried this before only to be scoffed at every time, he couldn't help but make one last-ditch attempt. If it worked, Dean would get a new lease on life, he'd be able to continue doing what he did best (and loved to do) save people and hunt monsters… if it didn't, well, Sam had decided that he wouldn't have to be without his brother for long because he would gladly end his own life before he drowned in grief.

Straightening, Sam closed his eyes for a moment as he waited, feeling the cool breeze brush his bangs back from his sweaty brow.

The change was nearly imperceptible but Sam knew when the demon had arrived. He slid his eyes open and smiled grimly at the sight of the beautiful young woman standing before him. She was lithe and tall, her milky skin almost shone in the gloom, her red hair nearly reached her waist as it fluttered in the wind. The tight black dress she wore did not leave much to the imagination.

The Crossroads demon blinked and her clear blue eyes turned a crimson red. She stepped forward, smiling before gasping and making a face once she recognized the young man who had called her.

"What part of 'your brother's hellhound chow' don't you understand?" she hissed, anger contorting her pretty face into a grotesque mask. She half-turned, tossing her fiery hair arrogantly.

"Wait!" Sam cried, reaching out with one hand as if to grab hold of the woman and stop her.

The demon paused and rolled her eyes.

"Please," Sam begged and cringed. The woman smirked and put her hands on her shapely hips.

"The Devil knows why I'm going to but I'll hear you out," the woman commented, "I could always use a good laugh."

Although the demon didn't seem to enthusiastic, she wasn't leaving so Sam decided to take that as a start at least.

"Let Dean go," Sam commanded, "Tear up his contract."

The woman breathed a sigh, "You know if that happens you die, right?"

Sam nodded quickly. He'd heard this all before.

"I know and… I'm alright with that," Sam answered and the demon raised an eyebrow.

"That's just great, honey," the demon mocked, "But I'm also sure you know that I can't do anything about Dean's contract."

"Lilith has it," Sam confirmed, his heart falling.

The woman held her hands out, "So you see? My hands are tied. Why don't you try talking to the queen bee herself?"

Sam clenched his jaw, "Because I'm talking to you!"

The demon chuckled, "And I'm flattered that you think I'm so important but you are really barking up the wrong tree. My advice, go back to whatever run-down motel you're staying at and enjoy the last few days with your big brother."

"I'm not asking for the full ten," Sam ignored the demon, "Give me a year, like Dean got, that's only fair."

"You really are not in the position to be bargaining with me," the demon warned.

"Six months," Sam continued, "Eight weeks, a day, and hour… I don't care!"

The demon seemed taken aback by how persistent the young man was, no one suggested less time Topside. Lilith had said the younger Winchester had spirit and now that the Crossroads demon had seen it first hand, she was intrigued. It was clear that Sam Winchester was willing to do anything as long as it would mean tearing up his brother's contract.

A genuine smile touched the demon's lips, "Okay, here's what I'll do. Because you are just too adorable when you're desperate, I'll talk to my superiors and see about making Dean's deal disappear. I'm not promising you anything, you understand. Lilith really wants your brother Downstairs so this might all be for naught."

Sam nodded, emotion clogging his throat. Dean might soon be free of his deal.

The demon blew Sam a kiss, "Now don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

As soon as the woman disappeared, Sam sagged, feeling as though a heavy weight was pressing down on his shoulders. If this worked, if the demon somehow managed to convince her superiors to scrap Dean's deal, Sam would be at peace.

Minutes passed and the young man was beginning to think that the demon had played him. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was what happened. Getting ready to go back to the car and drive home to the motel, Sam took a step forward and paused when the demon appeared once again.

Her expression was unfathomable and Sam wasn't sure if that was good or not.

"You thought I'd skipped out on you?" she asked, her lips lifting into an amused grin.

Sam scowled but didn't answer.

"Smile Sam! Dean's off the hook!" the woman exclaimed and the young man's frown melted, his eyes widening in astonishment.

The moment of happiness and excitement- relief- dried up quickly and Sam approached the demon.

"How long do I have?" he asked nervously, eyeing the woman. For all Sam knew, he had an hour to return to his brother and say his goodbyes.

The demon shrugged, "Oh, I don't know…"

Sam's heart skipped a beat, "What do you mean? Dean's contract is gone, right?"

"Oh, it is, Sammy," the woman nodded, "I watched Lilith tear it up, myself."

"Then how much time do I have?" he asked again, an uneasy feeling creeping into his stomach.

The demon's smile widened, she was enjoying stringing the young man along.

"Don't worry," she told him, "You're not becoming kibble anytime soon."

Sam wasn't sure what to think about that. Demons never made a deal without demanding something in return.

"I'm not going to Hell?" Sam asked, feeling like he was missing something that should be obvious.

"No," the demon assured him, "But that doesn't mean there's no consolation prize."

"What do you want?" Sam wondered out loud. If the demon didn't want his soul, what else was there to give?

"You," the red-haired woman answered simply, smiling at the confused expression on the young man's face.

Sam unconsciously took a step back from the demon.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, unable to hide the fear that had crept into his voice. His palms were slick with sweat and a drop slid sluggishly down his spine despite the cool night.

The demon's eyebrows furrowed, "Oh so now you want to back out? Did you really think Lilith would release your brother from his contract and let the two of you go on your merry way?"

Sam shook his head, unable to find his voice. Why was he suddenly so frightened? He knew that if he made a deal with a demon he'd have to pay. He had come to terms with the fact that he would likely be a hellhound chew-toy so why did this scare him so?

The woman brushed her host's hair away from her face and sighed, "Look, you're smart; I know you are so I'll explain it to you. That's more than most other people get when they deal with the likes of me."

Sam nodded and wiped his hands on his jeans.

"I know you were hoping to get the grand tour of Hell," the woman smirked, "But Lilith had other plans and you know nobody's going to argue with her."

Sam shuddered at the thought of the ancient demon. He looked the woman in the eye, waiting for her to speak.

"You're familiar with the idea of indentured servitude, right?" the Crossroads demon grinned, her teeth very white against her pale skin.

"Y-yeah," Sam muttered, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest.

"Well, now that we've got that out of the way," the woman told him, "There's a contract with your name on it. All you have to do is seal the deal and Dean's free as a bird."

Sam's brow furrowed, "But you said Lilith already had his contract destroyed."

The demon inclined her head, "Did I say that? I guess that's partly true. Consider Dean as being on parole, if you go through with this deal, Dean's contract goes poof! If you have second thoughts than your big brother gets a ticket to ride the Hellfire Express, just like before."

Sam lowered his head, thinking.

"When does my contract start?" he asked as confidently as he could manage.

The demon smirked, "As soon as we kiss, sweetheart."

Sam drew in a quick breath. He thought he'd have more time… time to say goodbye to his brother. Then again, why should he be so lucky?

"Alright," the young man whispered, determination pushing him forward.

The demon stepped up to him and raised her arms so that her wrists rested on Sam's shoulders. The young man ducked his head down, his hands grasping her waist.

Sam closed his eyes as he kissed the woman, feeling as though the demon was sucking the very life from him. Sam frowned; tasting cinnamon predominantly on the host's lips and something else, something foul just underneath… sulfur. He didn't pull away though; he would let the demon make the first move. He didn't want to fuck this up.

The young man felt himself gasping for air when the demon finally released him. The woman smirked when she saw tears well up in the youngest Winchester's eyes.

She raised one hand and pressed her palm against the back of Sam's head, inclining his head down towards her again. She stood up on her tiptoes and her lips just brushed his ear.

"Remember," she whispered in a husky voice, "You're doing this for Dean."


	2. Hollow

Dean looked over his shoulder at the alarm clock on the nightstand and frowned. Was that really the time? No, it couldn't be. Sam should be back by now.

Thinking that the clock was broken or something, Dean dug his cell phone from his pocket and stared at the time.

That wasn't right; Sam should have been back a while ago.

Dean knew that his brother likely hadn't been caught up chatting with some pretty waitress or customer and if he had decided to take a long, moody walk, he would have called.

"Shit," the eldest Winchester swore and wiped a hand down his face. Sam had left to go get them food from the tiny diner Dean had pointed out as they had entered town over a half-hour ago. Dean kicked himself for letting his brother go alone. A sliver of fear wormed itself into Dean's belly and took root. Anything could have happened to Sam; he could have been in a car accident, Lilith's cronies could have found him.

Bolting to the door, Dean barely paused to grab his jacket, his need to find Sam irresistible.

Jogging across the parking lot, Dean stared at his phone, checking almost frantically for any missed calls from his brother. He had let Sam take the Impala- although it wasn't a long walk to the diner- claiming that it would get his supper to him faster but Dean really wanted to give the classic Chevy time alone with his brother, seeing as in only a handful of days, she would be Sam's; but now he regretted his decision. If he had the car, he would be able to find his brother- safe and sound- all the more quickly.

Dean scrolled down the speed-dial list and picked out his brother's cell phone number. He began moving faster as the phone rang and rang, finally going to voicemail.

"Fuck," Dean swore, "Where are you, Sammy?"

Dean hoped he was just overreacting and he would barge into the diner to see Sam deep in conversation with some nerdy girl who was likewise waiting for her order to be filled. Dean hoped he would see his brother roll his eyes and scowl in annoyance, tell him that he was fine and could take care of himself. Dean hoped that Sam was in the diner because if he was, he was going to kick his ass for scaring him.

W

The bell above the door tinkled merrily when Dean stepped inside the bright, clean restaurant. He did a sweep of the area, his eyes scanning the booths and tables and the bar but there was no sign of his brother's 6'4" frame.

Dean took a deep breath and walked up to the Formica counter, catching the attention of a waitress lounging by the cash register, her nose in a fashion magazine.

"Hi there!" the young woman exclaimed. Her bleach-blonde hair clashed horribly with her deeply tanned skin and white blouse and maroon uniform skirt.

"What can I get ya?" she asked, eyeing Dean appreciatively. The eldest Winchester ignored her gaze; he had more important things on his mind than the waitress.

"Did you see a guy come in here a while ago? He's really tall, has shaggy, dark brown hair, maybe ordered a salad?" Dean asked as the young woman leaned her forearms on the counter, giving him a good view of her cleavage if he so inclined.

"I did! But he didn't get a salad, Pumpkin. Got himself a cheeseburger and a big, old slice of our famous pecan pie!" the waitress informed Dean, her accent making the word pie sound like 'pah.'

"Did you see which way he went?" Dean questioned and the young woman batted her eyelashes at him seductively.

"Oh, off to the outskirts of town," she waved her hand vaguely to the left and Dean turned to stare out the plate-glass window.

"You know," the waitress piped up, "Your friend was kinda cute… not as cute as you though."

Dean had stopped listening. His feet moved of their own accord and he crossed the diner swiftly, his sense of urgency mounting.

Dean had an idea of why Sam would go to the edge of town- there was an old crossroads there- but he grimaced. Sam had tried to make deals before but he had been shot down every time.

Dean sighed as he exited the diner. His brother was tenacious, he'd give him that. With Dean's days rapidly dwindling into the single digits, he wasn't at all surprise his brother would try and get him out of his deal. Again.

The older Winchester's fear shriveled up and dissipated, replaced by anger. He'd told Sam not to try and weasel out of the deal! He'd been telling his brother that for nearly a year now and did the kid listen? Dean growled, he might as well have been talking to the friggin' wall for all the heed his brother paid him.

"Better look out, Sammy," Dean muttered vehemently under his breath, "'Cause I've got my ass-kicking boots on!"

W

Dean smiled when he saw the moonlight glint off dark metal- the Impala- and approached the vehicle, parked off to one side of the dry, dirt road.

"Sam!" Dean called loudly, thinking his brother was in the car or off in the field to either side of the road somewhere.

The eldest Winchester peered through the Chevy's rear window but didn't see his brother inside. Frowning, he walked along the length of the car and paused when he caught sight of the brown paper bag sitting on the front passenger seat.

Dean shivered when he saw his name scrawled in his brother's familiar writing on the crinkled bag.

"Sam?" Dean called in a quieter voice; only the crickets answered.

Raising his head slightly, Dean strained to catch sight of his brother if he was walking further down the road.

"What happened to him, baby?" Dean asked his beloved Impala as though it would tell him.

The older brother walked around the car, checking the drainage ditches along the side of the road and froze in his tracks when he saw the dirt in the very center of the crossroad had been disturbed.

"No," Dean whispered and lurched forward. Crouching down, Dean pawed through the disturbed dirt and unearthed a familiar cigar box.

With shaking hands, the eldest Winchester lifted the lid and he nearly dropped the entire box when he saw its contents.

Dean held the box with one hand and fished his wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket with the other. Setting the cigar box gently down on the ground, Dean pulled one of his many from the wallet and replaced Sam's fake FBI card with it.

Putting the box back in the small hole, Dean quickly covered it and stepped back. He looked around the quiet, isolated stretch of road once again just to make sure his brother wasn't there and when he turned his attention back to the crossroad, an attractive red-head in a black dress was standing there. Dean had to admit, she was hot, even for a demon.

"Dean Winchester," the woman smiled and her eyes turned from blue to solid red, "I wondered when I'd be seeing you."

"Where's my brother, you bitch!" he snarled threateningly.

The Crossroads demon smirked, "Where do you think he is?"

"Don't play games with me! Where is he?!" Dean snapped and stepped forward.

"Relax," the demon suggested, "You're far too tense for someone who just got their life back."

That gave Dean pause. His stared at the woman and his mouth went dry.

"I thought nobody was dealing," he said, "I thought you all had me right where you wanted me."

The demon smiled widely and flicked her flaming hair over her shoulder, "Nothing's written in stone, Dean-o."

Dean's heart skipped a beat and his knees suddenly felt like they were made of jelly.

"No one would agree," he argued, all the fight leaving him as the demon's words began to sink in.

"What can I say? You're brother just melted my heart," the woman explained.

"You have no heart!" Dean snapped and the demon shrugged.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control.

"Dean, this is what your brother wanted," the demon said, a shard of humour clear in her voice, "You're out of the frying pan and he's in the fire."

Dean's eyes slid open, "No… He can't be… This wasn't supposed to happen…"

The woman's eyes pinched in mock sympathy, "I'm sorry to break it to you, honey, but Sam's long gone."

Dean staggered backwards, away from the demon- as if he could only flee her words and thus make them untrue- and gulped, gathering his strength to ask the next question.

"Where is he?" Dean repeated, "If he's… dead than where's his body?"

The woman smiled. She had already thought of this. Knowing that Dean wouldn't likely believe his brother was dead without seeing it with his own eyes, the demon had tracked down a decoy for the younger Winchester. It hadn't been all that difficult; really, the only problem was finding someone as tall as Sam. The demon had taken along a young hellhound- the beast overzealous and eager to please- to make sure everything was perfect. Normally, the demon would only be able to appear to those who wanted to make a deal- one of the few restrictions of the job- but with Lilith backing her, the Crossroads demon was able to move freely. The man who had died in Sam's place was a couple of inches shorter than the youngest Winchester but the demon doubted that Dean would notice. She was rather proud of herself for pulling such a feat off, especially if it fooled Dean Winchester.

The woman didn't answer the question directly but lifted one arm and pointed a delicate finger at the field just beyond the Impala.

Dean closed his eyes. His baby brother was lying in some lonely country field. Dead. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It should have been him out there, not Sam.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," the demon's voice cut into Dean's thoughts like a knife, "I hope you live a long, long life, Dean Winchester. I'll be sure to tell your brother you said 'hi'."

The older brother's head snapped up at the last comment, mouth twisting in a snarl, ready to spew a sarcastic remark but the demon had already disappeared.

Dean felt his mouth dry up and his eyes well with tears. He wanted to go to his brother, needed to go to him but he couldn't move.

The older Winchester stumbled forward on wooden legs, feeling as though he was floating rather than walking. He reached out one hand as he walked past the Impala, running his fingers along her hood as if drawing strength from the vehicle. He barely registered the brush of wet grass against his jeans or the flocks of dusty white moths he scattered as he approached his brother's final resting place.

Glancing down, Dean's stomach clenched when he saw splashes of a dark liquid on some of the blades of grass. He quickly looked up, his gaze landing on the familiar constellation of the Big Dipper, or as Sam insisted on calling it, Ursa Major.

Dean's breath caught in his throat when his gaze left the sky and turned back to the earth and saw a crumpled figure lying in the middle of a patch of trampled grass. Knowing it was far too to save Sam but unable to help himself, Dean ran to his brother's side, ignoring the blood-soaked ground and dropped down onto his knees.

Dean's stomach clenched and he leaned over, away from his brother's body, and threw up thin bile.

Wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, Dean turned to Sam again. Blood saturated the younger man's clothes, making them look black in the moonlight. Sam was sprawled out on his back, legs twisted beneath him and hands in clenched fists near his head as if he had been trying to protect himself.

Dean didn't even feel the hot tears coursing down his cheeks as he stared at his brother's mangled body. Sam had deep gouges in his chest where torn flesh and broken bones poked through the ruins of his shirt. His face covered in large bite marks made him nearly unrecognizable. But Dean knew, how could he not? This was Sam. His baby brother was lying so still and cold in this field outside of some no-name town in Texas.

Dean reached out to his brother but then pulled back; instead he took hold of one of Sam's gore-streaked hands and lifted it to his cheek.

"I'm… I'm s-so sorry, Sammy! It sh-should have b-been me! I ne-never should have let this hap-happen!" Dean lamented loudly, knowing no one would hear him.

W

Dean didn't know how long he remained there beside his brother, cradling his hand, rubbing his thumb gently over Sam's icy knuckles the way he used to whenever the younger Winchester was sick or hurt. Eventually Dean stood stiffly and decided that the field would serve as his brother's final resting place. It wasn't a very good place to be interred, Dean thought, but he wasn't sure he would be able to carry his brother back to the Impala. Making up his mind, the older brother walked to the small copse of trees on the other side of the field.

Gathering the dry wood he would need, Dean tried not to think about what was happening to his brother. Sam was in Hell because of him. Sam was being tortured because of him. Sam didn't deserve that.

Dean methodically built the funeral pyre around and over his brother's body, feeling a pang of guilt once Sam was completely hidden from view.

Fishing his lighter from his pocket, Dean stood poised to ignite the construction, a lump in his throat at the thought that this was going to be the last time he would see his brother.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tossed the lighter onto the pyre. The branches and leaf litter he'd gathered caught quickly were soon engulfed in orange flames.

Dean shivered despite the heat pouring off the fire and crossed his arms.

What was he going to do now? Sam was gone forever. His reason for living was dead.

Dean sighed and blinked away the tears that continued to stream down his face, his eyes already swollen and sore.

Once the pyre was nothing but a handful of charred branches and swirling ash, Dean turned his back on the last remnants of his brother's remains and walked slowly back to the Impala. He leaned against the driver's side door and frowned when he saw the paper bag sitting on the passenger seat.

Dean couldn't help the smile slightly. Only Sam would stop and pick up dinner before making a demon deal. Climbing into his beloved Chevy, Dean grabbed the bag and sat it on his lap. The food would be cold by now but he didn't care. Reaching a hand inside, Dean pulled out a foil-wrapped burger and a huge slice of Southern pecan pie in a Styrofoam container.

Dean's hands started to shake and he put the food back in the bag. He wasn't hungry. Instead, he curled his hands into fists and punched the Impala's steering wheel.

"Fuck!" Dean swore, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Slumping forward, he closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He needed to pull himself together now. He needed to go back to the motel and grab their stuff- Dean grimaced; he supposed it was just his stuff now- and get out of this town.

Dean nearly bashed his head on the ceiling when his phone vibrated in his pocket and trilled out the chords to 'Smoke on the Water'. Fumbling the device out of his pocket, Dean saw that it was Bobby calling and almost didn't answer.

Clearing his throat, the eldest Winchester lifted the phone to his ear, "Yeah?"

"What bug's up yer ass?" the gruff hunter growled at the less-than warm greeting.

Dean swallowed thickly and tried to answer but he felt tears well up in his eyes again.

"Dean? Son, you still there?" Bobby's voice asked, sounding worried now.

"Uh huh," Dean managed, "I'm here, Bobby."

"Listen, I know you might hate me for saying this but I found an ancient Mesopotamian unbinding spell and-" the veteran hunter stopped mid-sentence before starting up again, "Dean? What's wrong? Oh Jesus."

"B-Bobby," Dean choked out, "It's Sam."

"What about Sam?" Bobby's voice was tinged with anxiety.

"He's… he…" Dean closed his eyes and shook his head, "Damn it! He's dead! He did it Bobby, he made a demon deal and now he's gone!"

The pause on the other line was so long Dean was afraid the older man had taken a heart attack from the shock.

"Bobby?" It was Dean's turn to sound concerned.

"Idjit," the veteran hunter breathed. Dean wasn't sure if the insult was directed at Sam or him. He decided that he was the idiot for not realizing what his brother had been planning and felt guilt bloom darkly amongst the fresh grief that weighed down his heart, made his stomach sour and that made his eyes burn tears just waiting to be shed

"I… uh… I gave him a hunter's funeral," Dean told his friend, his voice a little stronger now.

There was a rustle of clothing from the other end of the line and Dean could imagine Bobby nodding his head.

"Good," Bobby stated, his voice numb, "That's good. You did good, son."

"I w-would have brought him somewhere better," Dean explained, "But he was… pretty ch-chewed up."

Silence once again reigned between the two men but then Bobby spoke.

"You come on home now, Dean," the old hunter said and Dean felt tears of gratitude well up in his eyes.

Of course he knew he was always welcome at Bobby's place, it was just somehow meant something more to be actually invited. Especially now.

"Okay," Dean agreed, "I'll be there in a few hours."

"I'll keep a beer on ice for ya," Bobby promised and hung up the phone.

The eldest Winchester started the Impala and turned up the radio to its highest volume. Dean's teeth rattled and his eyes throbbed with the beat but he didn't care. With the music so loud, he couldn't even hear his own thoughts and that's what he wanted.

Dean's vision blurred but he kept driving- no way was he stopping now- as Megadeth's 'A Tout Le Monde' came pounding through the speakers and crashing into his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an Alice In Chains song.


	3. Demon's Eye

Dean drove throughout the night. He made only one stop- the motel where he and his brother had been staying- before continuing on to South Dakota.

Dean tried to keep his gaze unwaveringly on the road ahead but he couldn't help glancing over at the passenger's seat every once in a while, his heart giving a jolt and his eyes burning with tears because Sam should be sitting there and wasn't sitting there.

Through the Impala's windshield, Dean watched the sun rise in silence. He had long turned off the radio- the music he loved sounding like white noise- only craving the familiar cadence of his brother's voice.

"Why'd you have to do it, Sammy?" Dean asked allowed as he narrowed his eyes at the golden rays of early morning sunlight seeming to mock him.

It should be raining, Dean decided, it should be cold and storming.

But the weather refused to reflect the eldest Winchester's mood as the temperature climbed and the hunter rolled the Impala's windows down for a refreshing breeze.

W

The classic Chevy's tires crunched over the gravel driveway as Dean pulled up to Bobby's ramshackle house. Dean didn't feel any relief at his arrival though. In truth, he could just as easily continued driving until he ran out of gas and then continued on foot, leaving his beloved Impala in the ditch.

But Bobby had told Dean to come- he had told Dean to come home- and the young man could not abandon his old friend who no doubt was hurting as much as he was.

Dean cut the engine but made no attempt to leave the vehicle. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths in preparation. He had managed to keep his emotions- his grief- under control while he drove but now that he was at his destination, he could already feel them start to swirl sourly in his belly and plug up his throat.

The swish-bang of a screen door opening and closing startled Dean and he watched despondently as Bobby stepped out onto the porch.

Dean saw the veteran hunter's eyes sweep across the interior of the Impala, as if searching for something he knew would be missing but unable to help himself.

With one trembling hand Dean opened the car door and stepped out, squinting at the older hunter.

Bobby left the porch, stomping tiredly down the wooden steps and across the sparse yard. His footsteps crunched loudly on the driveway before he halted before the younger man and pulled him into a strong hug.

Dean returned the gesture, holding onto Bobby just as strongly as the old hunter was embracing him.

Dean felt his grief and sorrow rise up from his belly and his eyes flooded with tears. He laid his chin against Bobby's shoulder and let the emotions he'd been bottling up for fifteen hours, overcome him.

SPN

Bobby Singer was dog-tired. After calling Dean and receiving the tragic news about Sam, the old hunter hadn't managed to get a wink of sleep. Instead, he'd shuffled into his kitchen and spent the night with Johnnie Walker. Pacing up and down his living room, Bobby had alternately cursed the youngest Winchester for his stupidity and praised him for his selfless act.

As the hours passed and the whiskey slowly disappeared, Bobby began to worry about the one remaining Winchester. He hoped that Dean would come see him and not get it into his head to either try or save Sam- again- or, failing that, take his own life in an attempt to be with his brother.

It was only when the familiar growl of the Impala filled the veteran hunter's dooryard that Bobby allowed himself to relax.

W

Despite knowing that Sam wouldn't be with his brother, Bobby didn't stop the old habit of checking the classic Chevy's passenger seat for the younger man.

Sighing, Bobby ran a hand over his beard. It was true then, Sam was gone.

He waited patiently until Dean got out of the car before making his own move. Striding across to the driveway and pulling the remaining Winchester into a strong hug.

Bobby blinked tears from his own eyes as the younger man began to cry. Bobby couldn't help but think back to the first time Dean had lost Sam and knew that this was somehow worse.

Back in Cold Oak, Dean had been devastated by Sam's murder and desperate to save him, but now Bobby sensed no fight in the younger man; Dean's cries were one of hopelessness and unquenchable grief.

"Come on inside, Dean," Bobby said gently and the younger man lifted his head from the old hunter's shoulder, wiping a sleeve over his eyes and followed him into the house.

Bobby sat down in one of his wing-back chairs and Dean settled onto the edge of the couch.

"Feel up to talking?" Bobby asked in a kindly tone.

Dean sniffed and nodded, "Yeah… yeah, you should know what ha-happened."

Bobby listened in silence as Dean told him everything. He found tears welling up in his eyes and didn't even notice when they rolled down his cheeks into his graying beard.

"I should have known he'd do something like this," Dean lamented, "He was just so quiet… too quiet… I didn't even think…"

Bobby just shook his head.

"I'm surprised that a demon actually did the deal," he mused.

Dean bobbed his head, "Maybe Sam pestered them enough that they just got sick of it."

The two men looked at one another for a moment before chuckling sadly.

Sobering, Bobby turned his grey eyes directly on the eldest Winchester.

"Dean," Bobby said in his best 'lecture' voice, "I know yer hurting and I know you miss Sam but you have to promise me- promise- that you won't go lookin' to trade yer soul for your brother's life again."

Dean looked stricken at the idea and assured Bobby that he wouldn't go making a demon deal.

"I d-don't want to st-start that cycle again," he muttered morosely, blinking rapidly, "Besides, I don't think any demon would deal now."

Bobby stood up and stretched. He gave Dean's shoulder a comforting squeeze as he walked past the younger man on his way to the kitchen.

"I know you wanted beer but I think something a little stronger is what we need," Bobby told the young man and Dean agreed.

Bobby grabbed his nearly empty bottle of Johnnie Walker and two coffee mugs and sat down on the couch beside Dean.

Exhaustion and grief had aged the young man far beyond his twenty-eight years and Bobby grimaced in sympathy as Dean took the mug of whiskey from him.

The two men sat like that for a long time, silently sipping the last of the alcohol and thinking about their lost loved one.

Dean shed a few more tears, openly seeking comfort from Bobby and the older hunter did what he could for the younger man. Bobby bit his tongue though, the usual condolences of 'he's gone to a better place' or 'he's not suffering' didn't apply in this situation and actually only brought on more pain just thinking about them. Sam was not in a better place, he was suffering and nothing Bobby said would change that. So the old hunter kept his mouth shut and hoped that at least Sam had some kind of peace knowing that his brother was still alive- would still be alive by the end of the year- because of what he'd given up.

"Bobby," Dean said, his hazel eyes still bloodshot and his face still wan, "I haven't seen you cry like this since Sam made us watch Titanic with him."

Bobby scowled and cuffed the back of Dean's head playfully. He was amazed at the fact that the younger man could still crack a joke in the midst of his grief.

The light moment quickly dissipated and Dean was left staring into his empty coffee mug, perhaps recalling that reluctant viewing of Titanic, watching it only because his brother wanted to and claiming that at least Kate Winslet wasn't too hard on the eyes.

"I just… I can't be-believe he's gone," Dean whispered.

"I know, boy," Bobby murmured and sat quietly while waves of grief crashed anew over him and the younger man.

With the pain still relatively fresh and the grief somewhat numbed by shock, Bobby wondered what the next few days had in store for Dean. Although he loved Sam like a son, it was Dean he was truly concerned for. Bobby had lost many friends and family over the years that he thought he'd be able to just ride the grief until it faded but Dean was still young and he would doubtless be caught in it insidious undertow for a long, long time.

What Bobby didn't count on, however, was Dean's tendency to bury his pain and push forward, delving into work in order to forget.

Bobby should have remembered that one Winchester trait because the very next day it reared its ugly head.

SPN

Lilith nearly skipped down the hallway in her excitement, one of her most loyal minions trailing along placidly behind her.

The demon barely glanced at her surroundings. She had no interest in the expensive hardwood floors or exotic decorative rugs or one-of-a-kind paintings hanging on the walls. She walked right through the kitchen with its state-of-the-art oven, fridge with French doors, and large dishwasher without stopping. The living room was passed by without notice; the leather couch and two matching chairs, coffee and end tables, stereo system and big-screen TV sat forgotten.

As she walked toward the rear of the mansion, Lilith looked over her shoulder, taking in the other demon's passive expression.

Kincaid was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and shrewd brown eyes. He wore an impeccably tailored grey suit and dark blue tie. His host- Vincent Beard- was a wealthy man and the father of the little girl whose body Lilith inhabited.

The demon queen was particularly pleased with their current living arrangements. She liked the mansion. It was much better than the suburban family home she had been staying at before- though Lilith couldn't deny that had been entertaining- because it was isolated from nosy humans. The mansion boasted a circular cobblestone driveway and two-car garage, a huge back yard with a tennis court, in-ground pool and flourishing gardens with trees and bushes and benches and birdbaths. The property was surrounded on all sides by miles and miles of thick old-growth forest made even denser with invading kudzu weeds.

Lilith bounced on the balls of her feet, a knowing smile crossing her features as she thought about her newest houseguest. Sam Winchester was hers. She couldn't wait to hear him scream in agony; watch him break right before her eyes. Lilith's smile turned to one of sick amusement as she imagined him begging for mercy or maybe even death.

The little girl hurried down the basement stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the handrail, her patent leather shoes thudding quietly on the carpeted floor as she walked through what she guessed was Vincent Beard's man-cave; a large open room with a billiards table and an oaken bar with bottles of pricey alcohol on display. There was also a couch and Plasma-screen TV at the opposite end of the den.

Turning down a short hallway, Lilith came to an impatient halt in front of a heavy door. Lilith didn't know what the room had been used for prior to her arrival at the mansion, but she knew that she was about to put it to good use. She waited for Kincaid while he opened the door for her and rushed inside eagerly, eyes scanning the barren room for her captive.

Lilith's eyes lit upon the far corner and she strode towards it as fast as her short legs would carry her without running.

She stared haughtily down at the figure at her feet.

"Sam," Lilith spoke in a high-pitched, eight-year old voice tinged with arrogance.

The young man was kneeling on the cold, dirty floor, two demons on either side of him, grasping his arms in their vice-like grip. Sam didn't understand why it was necessary to guard him like this, he wasn't going to try and escape. If he tried, Dean would no doubt be sent straight to Hell and Sam would be left alone. No, Sam had made a deal- however unpleasant- and he meant to see it through. Dean was worth it.

He glanced at the child wearing a frilly pink dress and white leather shoes, her brown hair held back from her face with a pretty pink bow. Despite her innocent and youthful features, Sam knew that this was no little girl. This was a monster, the most powerful and dangerous demon on Earth.

"Lilith," Sam narrowed his eyes at the demon.

The girl giggled and clapped her hands together.

"Good guess! Do you like my wardrobe?" Lilith asked and spun in a circle, the skirt of her dress flaring out.

Sam grimaced. The thought of the demon possessing an innocent child sickened him. He just hoped that the girl was asleep and unaware of what was happening.

The young man closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Lilith was peering up curiously at him.

"What's the matter, sleepy-head?" She asked, sounding just like a little girl.

"How long is my contract?" Sam ventured. He didn't much care why Lilith had agreed to make the deal with him, he was sure he'd find that out soon enough but he felt anxious to know how long he would be forced to be here.

Lilith pouted for a moment and her host's blue eyes darkened with displeasure.

"You can leave when I say you're free to go," she told Sam, her voice suddenly cold and hard.

Sam swallowed thickly. He knew that it could be years before Lilith tired of him. If that happened, where would he go? Bobby's salvage yard? The Roadhouse? Would Dean still be alive? Would Bobby? Then again, Lilith could just as easily snap his neck like a toothpick when she grew bored enough.

Sam startled and his muscles tensed when the girl wrapped her thin arms around his middle and smiled up at him, "Oh Sam, we're going to have so much fun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Deep Purple song.


	4. The Unraveling

Bobby Singer woke the next morning blissfully forgetful of the previous day's events. For a moment he stared up at the spotty, water-stained ceiling of his bedroom, believing he resided in a world where both Winchester boys were alive and happy.

Grief crashed over the veteran hunter with such force that he felt nauseous and he had to close his eyes until the vertigo passed.

Sitting up slowly, his muscles creaking and his bones popping as he did so; Bobby ran a calloused hand down his face.

Sam was gone, dead. He'd made a deal with a demon for his big brother's soul.

Bobby sucked in a shaky breath and let it out evenly, trying to get a hold on his emotions.

"The coffee ain't going to make itself, old man," Bobby muttered to himself and stood. He found himself some clean clothes and changed quickly, making his way downstairs with a heavy heart.

He decided to let Dean sleep for a little while- Lord knew the boy needed it- and left the guest bedroom door closed as he passed by.

The kitchen was awash in buttery morning light, making the old hunter squint. Bobby sighed and glanced out the window above the sink, swearing out loud when he saw the Impala missing from the driveway.

"Balls," Bobby growled and turned away from the sight.

Storming up the stairs, the hunter's suspicion was confirmed when he pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and saw Dean's bed was untouched and his duffel bag missing: the young man had bailed.

Making his way back to the kitchen, Bobby grabbed one of his many phones and punched in Dean's cell number.

Bobby was slightly surprised when the young hunter answered quickly.

"Hey Bobby," he said tiredly.

"Don't you 'hey Bobby' me," the older man grumbled, "What the hell do ya think yer doing?"

"I found a hunt," Dean answered curtly.

Bobby sagged, "Son, give yourself some time to adjust-"

"I'm sorry Bobby but we both know that people aren't going to stop dying just because Sammy's gone," Dean answered sharply, not sounding apologetic at all.

The veteran hunter sighed, "Why don't you come on back, we can tackle this together."

There was a long pause and for a moment Bobby thought the remaining Winchester had simply set his phone down, refusing to talk to him.

"I just need to be alone right now," Dean said finally, his voice thick.

Knowing that Bobby wasn't going to convince the young man otherwise, he nodded his head and spoke, "Well, my door's always open to ya when you need it."

"I know Bobby, thanks," Dean muttered and ended the call.

Bobby stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before settling it back into its cradle. He sighed sadly and blinked his eyes rapidly, reluctant to let the tears gathering in his eyes, fall.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Bobby paused for a moment before adding some whiskey to the dark beverage and sat down at the kitchen table.

The hunter watched the sun crawl across the yellowed linoleum floor as his coffee grew cold, hoping that he just hadn't lost both of his boys.

SPN

You're doing this for Dean; Sam reminded himself as Lilith stepped back and cast an appraising eye over him.

The demon queen smiled smugly- an ugly expression on the sweet face of a child- and looked behind her at the man who had followed her into the room.

"I don't think you two have ever met," Lilith said and motioned her minion forward.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the man, he was about four or five inches shorter than the youngest Winchester and considerably older. Sam knew that that meant nothing though, the demon possessing the man would be preternaturally strong.

"This is Kincaid," Lilith simpered. The man stared down at Sam as though he was a slug and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sam Winchester," Kincaid had a deep, resonant voice that demanded obedience and reminded the young man eerily of the inflection his father often used.

"I'd say it was a pleasure meeting you but the only one who seems very happy is the boss lady," Sam sneered. He could just imagine his brother saying the exact same thing and it gave Sam an odd feeling of comfort. He immediately regretted speaking though.

Lilith turned and backhanded him across the face. Sam's head snapped back and his lip split.

"I don't like that tone," the demon said in a low voice, "Don't talk again."

Sam spat blood onto the floor but wisely kept his mouth closed. He saw the corner of Kincaid's lip curl up in an arrogant smirk.

"Maybe you should have made him into hound chow," the man commented gamely, "He'd learn respect quickly enough in Hell."

Lilith chuckled, "You're so funny, Kincaid."

"No, he's better off here," she continued and gave Sam an endearing smile, "Besides, I've been waiting far too long to meet Sam to just let Alistair have him."

The youngest Winchester's eyes widened slightly when a flicker- Sam wasn't even sure he'd really seen it- of fear cross Kincaid's features at the mention of the strange name. Lilith apparently didn't notice or she didn't care. No, I didn't imagine it; Sam thought and grimaced when the two demons holding his arms tightened their grip momentarily.

Sam felt blood sliding down his chin from his split lip but he refused to take his eyes off Lilith. The child stepped closer to him and she brought his chin up with one small hand.

"If you're going to be a servant, you'll have to look the part, won't you?" the demon asked and although Sam did not reply, his heart rate sped up and his muscles tensed in fear.

Without any signal from his queen, Kincaid left the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

Lilith released Sam's chin and began to unbutton the flannel shirt he was wearing.

"What are you doing?" the young man asked, trying desperately to back away from the child; a futile attempt with the two demons still holding his arms.

Sam cringed when the girl leaned forward, her mouth close to his ear, "If you want to keep your tongue, I'd suggest you keep it still."

Lilith smiled when the youngest Winchester blanched and she chuckled. She glanced down appreciably at his exposed chest. She noticed the anti-possession tattoo but ignored it; Sam Winchester had made this deal of his own free will and Lilith would see that it continued as such.

Sam flinched when the door opened and Kincaid stepped back inside. It took Sam a moment to make out what the demon was holding in his hand, but once he did, the young man's eyes widened in fear. Sam opened his mouth to protest but a sidelong glance from Lilith caused his words to die in his throat.

Kincaid sauntered forward, an arrogant smile on his face. Sam wasn't looking at the demon though; his gaze was glued to the red-hot branding iron clutched in his fist.

Sam began to struggle, trying to break free from the two demons holding him as Kincaid approached slowly, prolonging his terror.

Lilith smiled up at the man, the glow of the iron reflected in her host's blue eyes. She turned to Sam and patted his cheek in a reassuring manner, "Don't worry, Sammy, it'll only hurt for a minute."

Belatedly, Sam wondered where the branding iron had come from. He could read the initials 'VB' at the end of the tool, and thought it could be possible Kincaid's host had made his fortune in the cattle industry and had the branding iron made as a souvenir.

Not that it mattered a great deal where the man had gotten the thing, all Sam cared about was that a demon now had it heated up and pointed directly at him.

The young man cried out in pain- he couldn't help it- when Kincaid touched the hot metal to the right side of his chest, just beneath the collarbone. Sam shuddered with agony and tears squeezed out from his eyes, dripping down his face.

He gasped when the iron was pulled away and he sagged in the demons' hold. Sam was panting, his breathing rapid and ragged against the pain.

Sam groaned when Lilith grabbed his bangs and tugged his head up so she could see his face, "Aww, did it hurt that much?"

Sam gulped but didn't respond in any way to the demon's question.

"And I thought the Winchesters were stronger than that," Lilith mocked and Kincaid laughed.

Sam lowered his gaze, humiliated. Dean would be so disappointed in him.

Not that Dean is ever going to know, Sam thought despondently, because I'm never going to see him again. Lilith's never going to let me go.

The young man choked out a sob at the thought and Lilith, still thinking the pain of the brand was causing the reaction, sighed in exasperation.

"Don't be such a cry-baby," she admonished but her smile told a different story. She was enjoying seeing Sam Winchester in tears.

SPN

Dean drowned out his thoughts with the rock music pounding through the Impala's speakers. It was all he could do not to break down.

The eldest Winchester had found a hunt in Oregon- what sounded like a rugaru- and had pointed the old Chevy's nose in that direction without a second thought.

If Dean focused on ganking monsters then he wouldn't have time to think about his baby brother.

He tried not to feel bad about leaving Bobby. The veteran hunter could take care of himself and Dean knew that all he'd do was dwell on what Sam had done if he stayed at the salvage yard.

No, he was better off doing what he did best: hunting down monsters. Dean had always found it helped him bury anything that was troubling him. He couldn't afford to be burdened with worries and problems when innocent lives depended on him. Dean could just shut away all his anxieties and focus solely on the task at hand.

He knew it probably wasn't the healthiest way to deal with stuff but it worked for him and he wasn't about to change that.

In his mind, Dean went through all the evidence he had found on the Internet the night before; the coroner's and police reports, witness statements and the testimony of friends and family as Slayer blared from the Impala's speakers.

SPN

Sam stared down at the Styrofoam plate Kincaid set in front of him. The mushy brown glob didn't look appetizing in the least. A raw, meaty smell drifted up from the plate and Sam's stomach clenched. He wasn't sure the slop had ever been food.

The young man's stomach, despite the initial nausea, growled loudly, reminding Sam that he hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime the day he'd made his deal.

Leaning forward cautiously, Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the plate and reached a hand out. Taking a tiny bit on his index finger, the youngest Winchester tasted the fare.

The blood drained from his face when he realized what exactly the demon had given him and he wiped his hand off on his jeans.

Kincaid chuckled, "Dog food for Lilith's dog."

Sam felt bile rise in his throat but he swallowed it down.

"I wouldn't turn my nose up at it if I were you," the demon continued, the smirk clear in his voice even though Sam kept his gaze on the plate, "You're not getting anything better."

Sam closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath to try and calm his stomach.

Kincaid pushed the plate closer to the young man with the toe of one of his polished black dress shoes.

He heard the demon sniff, "What's wrong? Not good enough for you?"

"No, I-" Sam stopped before he could get any more out.

Oh no, he'd just spoken. Kincaid smiled wide and Sam cringed back.

Sam retreated until his back hit the wall and he held his hands out defensively. He knew he had no chance against the demon but he had to at least try.

Kincaid walked forward; Sam watched him warily.

The demon lazily raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. For a moment, nothing happened but then pain engulfed Sam's abdomen. He doubled over, hands going to his belly; it felt like his insides had been replaced with razor wire.

Kincaid grinned and clenched his hand tighter. Sam's knees buckled and he collapsed, gasping to draw breath into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to work.

Just when Sam thought he was going to pass out the pain disappeared, leaving him weak and shaky. Raising his head, Sam saw Kincaid sneering down at him.

"That was just a warning," the demon informed him, "Next time I won't be so kind."

Dean would have given the monster his best shit-eating grin and made some raunchy comment but Sam remained silent, concentrating only on catching his breath.

Kincaid turned his back to the young man and kicked the Styrofoam plate- not hard enough to spill its contents- and sent it sliding across the concrete floor to hit the wall beside Sam.

"Better eat up," the demon said, "You don't want to work on an empty stomach."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Rise Against song.


	5. Damage, Inc.

Dean limped slightly on his twisted ankle as he made his way to the Impala. The jug of gasoline he carried felt like it weighed a ton but he hardly noticed. He had given up the shovel he'd brought with him as lost; the spirit had thrown it at Dean's head and the wooden handle had hit a gravestone instead, breaking the shovel in half on impact. Dean made a mental note to pick up another one at the next hardware store he saw.

The eldest Winchester found it hard to believe that four months had passed since Sam's death. Dean had been back to Bobby's a couple of times but he never stayed long, he couldn't stand the old man constantly asking him how he was holding up. Dean knew Bobby was worried about him but the young hunter didn't know why. He was doing fine in his opinion; hunting down baddies and saving innocent people, like he'd been trained to do.

Sure, Dean worked most cases solo now- only occasionally teaming up with Jo Harvelle when she strong-armed him- which put him at a greater risk of getting hurt, but Dean told himself he liked working alone. Alone he wouldn't have to see his fellow hunters' sympathetic expressions or hear their continued condolences or their nagging. No, Dean decided he was better off by himself because the one person he really wanted to have as a hunting partner was gone forever and no one could make up for that.

Dean unlocked the Chevy's trunk and set the gas can inside. Before closing the lid, his gaze lingered on his brother's duffel bag, one corner poking out from underneath the emergency blanket. Reaching into the trunk, Dean tugged the blanket over the duffel, completely obscuring it from sight. Slamming the trunk lid closed, the eldest Winchester took a deep breath before making his way towards the driver's side door. It wasn't that Dean wanted to forget his brother- not at all- but the memories were too painful and Dean just couldn't deal with them; or so he told himself.

Turning the key in the Impala's ignition, Dean drove slowly out of the cemetery, his ankle smarting as he pressed his foot on the gas pedal.

SPN

Sam wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had first arrived at the mansion. There were no calendars on the walls or newspapers on the coffee tables to mark the date, the radio and television were never turned on and Sam didn't dare ask one of the demons what day it was. Sam guessed it didn't matter anyway; it would only make it worse if he knew just how long it had been since he'd made his deal.

The only thing that really mattered was that Dean was still alive.

Sam tried not to think about his brother. Sam didn't want to forget about him but the thought that Dean was out there somewhere, maybe driving the Impala or researching for a hunt or having a beer with Bobby, was just too painful.

Sam tried not to think about Dean because this was the one time he couldn't rely on his big brother to rescue him. Sam was sure that if Dean tried, all bets would be off and his brother would die and Sam could not live with his sibling's blood on his hands like that.

W

Sam should have known better. Really, he should have. Thinking back on it, he wondered how he ever thought he'd be able to get one past the demons. He was just lucky Lilith didn't go back on their deal; that was Sam's greatest fear: that he'd fuck up so badly that the demon queen would just call it off and Dean would die.

He estimated that he had been at the mansion for a few weeks, three at the most.

Sam was starving. It wasn't an understatement. Every morning Kincaid would unlock the door to the basement room with a smirk and a Styrofoam plate of dog food for the young man. At first Sam could never keep it down, he'd barely manage to swallow it before it came back up. After a few days though, Sam found that he could eat the miserable fare without a single complaint from his stomach. Not that it made things better. Sam was only fed once a day and by the end of it, he would be barely running on fumes.

Sam didn't even hesitate when Lilith demanded he make her a sandwich. It was an odd request for a demon but the young man did not question it.

If Lilith wanted a sandwich she was going to get a sandwich. She watched closely as Sam spread jam on a slice of bread with a butter knife.

Sam's hand trembled slightly as he prepared the food. His heart was nearly pounding in fear. If he screwed up he'd be punished. Even for a small mistake.

Sam thought about the first few times he'd been unable to eat the dog food Kincaid brought him and shuddered when he recalled the beatings he'd received as a result.

"Sammy!" the young man flinched when Lilith spoke up in her little-girl voice. He stopped what he was doing and waited nervously.

"I scared you!" the demon crowed, "What were you thinking about?"

Sam didn't answer right away; he wasn't going to speak and give Lilith an excuse to hurt him.

"Tell me," she said, "Don't keep secrets."

Sam swallowed, "I was… thinking about Dean."

"Do you miss him?" Lilith asked curiously.

Sam nodded.

"Well, get used to it," the demon told him and started humming absentmindedly.

Sam finished preparing the sandwich, set it on a saucer and put the knife in the sink.

"C'mon Sammy! Let's go upstairs!" Lilith said and grabbed his free hand, pulling him from the kitchen like an excited child.

Lilith's room was pink. Bright pink. The walls were painted pink, the dressers were pink, the lampshades and curtains were pink, and the sheets on the canopy bed were pink.

A name was stenciled on one wall in purple letters- MANDY- with butterfly stickers surrounding it. Plush animals and dolls covered almost every available surface. There was a small, low plastic table and three matching chairs with a miniature tea set in one corner. A dollhouse was set up beside the bed.

Sam didn't know much about Lilith's host or Kincaid's but it was obvious that the father doted on his daughter.

Lilith skipped over to the table, shoved the tea set onto the carpet and sat down. Sam put the saucer with the sandwich in front of her and stepped away.

Sam didn't know why Lilith cared whether she ate or not, he didn't think she was overly concerned with her tiny host's wellbeing. For all Sam knew, the girl- Mandy- was dead already.

Sam's gaze traveled surreptitiously around the room, careful to keep his head down. Lilith had been 'playing' with Mandy's toys. Sam saw a pile of headless Barbie dolls piled on the dresser like kindling and white fluff from a number of stuffed animals was strewn across the carpet. A carton of Crayons sat in nightstand, holding down a stack of pictures. Sam couldn't make out most of the picture on top but he saw it contained a lot of red and black and grey.

"I'm done!" Sam jumped at the sudden announcement and turned his attention to Lilith.

Head down, eyes on the carpet, Sam took the plate. Lilith hadn't eaten the crusts. Just like a little kid.

"It goes in the garbage, Sam," the demon spoke up, speaking to Sam as though he was incredibly slow.

Sam nodded and turned to the door. He could feel Lilith's eyes on his back as he walked down the hall and hunched his shoulders protectively.

In the kitchen Sam opened the cupboard under the sink and stared for a long moment at the green garbage can. His stomach let out a quiet whine and Sam stared at the saucer in his hand. Looking over his shoulder, Sam didn't see any demons. Kincaid and Lilith were nowhere in sight, nor were any of the others who called the mansion home.

A wave of vertigo passed through Sam and he used his free hand to grab the edge of the sink. Dog food once a day just wasn't cutting it. Sam had never felt so hungry before. The deep gnawing ache of an utterly empty- nearly constantly empty- stomach was becoming unbearable. Even when he'd been younger and John had disappeared for days, leaving his boys alone Sam never wanted for something to eat; Dean made sure of that.

Sam didn't consciously make the decision before he was eating the sandwich crusts as quickly as possible. The dry bread stuck in Sam's throat and for a moment he was afraid he'd choke but he managed to swallow painfully, the empty feeling in his stomach easing somewhat.

Looking back, Sam wondered how he ever thought he'd get away with it.

But Sam wasn't concerned with being found out at that moment. He set the saucer in the sink and headed back upstairs to Mandy's- Lilith's- room.

"Did you get lost?" the demon's voice asked from the other side of the bedroom and Sam ducked his head lower but didn't answer.

"I don't like waiting, Sam," the girl's voice was cold and the young man's heart skipped a beat.

Sam bit his lip to keep from speaking without permission and only making things worse. He flinched when he heard Lilith move towards him.

"Since I'm in a good mood," the demon queen said, "I'll let you off the hook."

Sam relaxed somewhat, thinking himself extremely lucky to have dodged the bullet.

Lilith went back to what she had been doing before- drawing- and Sam stood patiently, waiting.

After what Sam thought was a half hour, the little girl stood up and walked over to him, bringing a piece of paper along with her.

"I drew you a picture, Sammy," she said happy and shoved the paper at him.

Sam glanced down at the detailed sketch- far too sophisticated for a child to draw- of what appeared to be a Hellhound tearing an eerily accurate drawing of himself, to pieces.

The Hellhound- about the size of a Great Dane- had burning yellow eyes and. ash-grey fur. It was a lupine-looking creature, with sharp talons on its paws and a mouthful of jagged fangs.

The Sam Winchester rendered in pencil and Crayon was so life-like it made the young man shudder. Sam closed his eyes and felt nauseous. He let the picture fall from his hand and land softly on the carpet, face-up as though mocking him.

"That's what Dean thinks happened to you," Lilith said, "That's what would have happened if I hadn't interceded."

Sam wondered if he was supposed to thank the demon for her decision to keep him alive.

"I think I made the right choice, don't you?" the little girl said in a cheery voice and Sam nodded.

Lilith knew. Of course she did. She just thought it fun to make Sam think he could get away with it.

That evening Kincaid led Sam down to the basement, the ever present superior smirk on the demon's face. Sam wasn't concerned- the demon always looked like the cat that had eaten the canary- and went willingly. At least he'd get to sleep and escape for a little while.

When Kincaid didn't turn around and lock the door, Sam began to grow anxious. Something was up, he knew it.

Sam backed away from the demon until he was at the far end of the room and waited- it was all he could do.

The door opened and three more demons entered- two he recognized as Lilith's supporters- and the queen herself.

Sam's eyes widened when he saw what Lilith was holding in her small hands.

"I said you were going too easy on him," Kincaid told the demon child and Lilith sighed.

"Yes, you were right, I was wrong," she muttered but smiled as she spoke.

Lilith looked at the two burly demons who had followed her in, "Boys, bring Sam over here."

Sam tried to fight back but was quickly overpowered. The demons grabbed his arms and dragged him forward.

Lilith grinned toothily, "Apparently you were under the impression that you could break the rules and no one would notice."

Sam shook his head despite the fact that it was true.

"Oh but you did," Lilith continued. Sam shook his head but Lilith spoke, "No, no, don't deny it."

Sam lowered his head. This wasn't going to end well.

"You agreed to this, Sam," Lilith reminded him, her voice holding none of the childish cheer it usually did, "You sold yourself into slavery to save your brother's soul."

"I am simply doing what anyone would do if their slave disobeyed them," Lilith stated coldly.

Tears of fear welled up in Sam's eyes and he bit back a sob. He was such an idiot. How could he have not known Lilith would find out and punish him?

The two demons holding his arms turned him around so he was facing away from Lilith and tugged his shirt up so that his back was bare.

Sam heard the crack of the whip seconds before it hit him. He cried out in shock and pain, jerking in the demons' hold.

The young man collapsed when the flogging finally ended. He landed heavily on his side, his back felt as though it was on fire.

Lilith peered down at Sam for a moment as she coiled the whip around her arm.

"Goodnight," she mocked, "Sleep tight."

The four demons left, locking the door behind them.

Sam's face was hot and feverish, clammy from a mixture of tears and sweat. His hair was sopping and he could feel blood running down his back. Sam closed his eyes even though there was no way he would be able to sleep. Every time he moved the lashes on his back pulled, causing Sam's breath to catch in his throat as he froze, waiting for the sensation to pass.

"D'n," Sam whimpered out loud, his longing for his brother almost as strong as his physical pain.

That night was his longest since arriving at the mansion.

W

It had been a long time since Lilith had punished Sam over the sandwich. It hadn't been the last time Sam had been flogged, though. But it was the last time Sam had eaten human food without permission. Afterwards Sam choked down the slop Kincaid gave him like a good little doggie- the demon's words, not his- and stayed far away from the kitchen. The insatiable black hole that Sam's stomach had become always went unfilled. Sam coped with the hollow feeling and eventually he rarely noticed the constant dull ache.

Sam made mistakes- of course he did, he was only human and it was to be expected- and was punished. Lilith oversaw it all with a malicious glint in her child's eyes. Kincaid delighted in degrading him, making Sam feel less than human. The other demons- loyal followers of Lilith- went out of their way to make Sam's life as difficult as possible.

And Sam began to break. This was a nightmare that was never going to end. Lilith could keep him for as long as she desired and Sam was sure that if the demon queen had her way, the contract was never going to expire.

At least Dean's alive, Sam told himself. Dean's still breathing and that's all that matters.

Dean was still saving people from monsters. He wasn't in Hell, paying for his brother's mistake. The demons didn't get what they wanted.

No matter how many times Sam told himself those words though; they did nothing to end the pain and loneliness.


	6. Head Down

Six months after Sam's death, Dean found himself driving towards Sioux Falls. Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to see Bobby or not. But the older hunter had called him and asked if he would come over and Dean couldn't say no. He knew he owed Bobby a visit once in a while, if only to let the grizzled hunter know he was still alive.

Dean turned up the volume on the Impala's radio and Jo scowled at him from the passenger's seat.

'Honky Tonk Woman' drowned out whatever comment the young woman had been about to make.

Was it Dean's fault that she hadn't wanted to go home?

Dean had only one rule for other hunters who partnered with him- most often Jo Harvelle- and he expected it to be obeyed.

No talking about Sam.

And Jo had broken that rule. So now Dean was giving her the silent treatment. At least until his heart stopped aching and his eyes stopped pricking with tears.

The blonde hunter reached out and turned down the volume. Dean resisted the urge to slap her hand away and sighed when she turned to glare at him.

"Would you just listen to me for a moment?" she demanded; her tone both angry and exasperated.

"Oh, here we go!" Dean grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"I lost someone too, you know! I know what it's like to lose someone you love," Jo continued, "You're not the first person who's had someone die on them!"

Dean gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white.

"You can't keep doing this-" Jo began but Dean interrupted her.

"Who says you get to tell me what I can or can't do? Huh? Your Dad died when you were a little kid! You said yourself that you barely remember him! Don't try to act like it's the same thing because it's not!" the older hunter snapped, his chest constricting in grief.

Jo looked taken aback for a moment; she sucked in a deep breath before speaking again, quieter than it had been, "I still miss him, Dean."

The eldest Winchester glanced at the girl from the corner of his eye. Great, now he felt like a dick.

"Jo," he began but the young woman shook her head, "No, you're right. It's not the same."

Dean sighed and reached out to turn the volume back up, blinking back tears of anger and sadness as he returned his attention to the road.

SPN

Bobby watched silently as Dean guzzled down his beer. Jo Harvelle sat in the chair across from the eldest Winchester, her own drink untouched.

"Y'all wanna tell me what happened?" the veteran hunter asked even though he had an idea of what had transpired on the drive here.

"No," Both Dean and Jo spoke in unison.

Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes, "Did you at least take care of the poltergeist?"

Jo nodded. Dean didn't even react.

"Well, I made ya'll some casserole and I expect the both of you to eat it," Bobby said and gestured to the tuna casserole steaming on the stovetop.

Dean choked down the meal that Bobby had made for them, not even tasting it. Jo seemed just as listless, poking at her food with a faraway look on her face. Bobby gobbled his portion down, not wanting to prolong the torture.

He coerced both youngsters into doing the dishes for him, feigning his arthritis was acting up.

Bobby wanted the two hunters to forgive and forget- sadness didn't suit either of them- because he couldn't take the silence anymore.

W

The grizzled hunter sat down across from Dean at the kitchen table and handed him a beer, cracking one open for himself. Jo was in the living room, sleeping on the couch. It was late, past midnight but Dean couldn't sleep. And neither could Bobby.

At first Bobby didn't say anything; he just looked at the younger man. Dean looked years older than he should have. He had dark circles under his eyes, his face was haggard, his shoulders hunched.

The hazel eyes that once burned with love and determination were now filled with sadness and uncertainty.

God, it wasn't only Sam who had died that day, Bobby realized, Dean had died along with his brother as surely as though he'd also been torn apart by Hellhounds.

"Son… Dean, what's eating you?" Bobby asked softly.

The younger man didn't look at Bobby; he stared at the tabletop, hand clutching his bottle of untouched beer.

"It's been six months Bobby," Dean answered, his voice barely audible.

Bobby nodded, he'd been keeping track of the days, the hours. How long Sam was in Hell. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop.

"But it feels like it happened yesterday," Dean continued.

Bobby knew the feeling. He had felt the same way for a long time after Karen's death and he felt it now, with Sam's.

Bobby wondered if Dean was going to ask him when things got better but to his surprise, Dean didn't. He guzzled down half of his beer and stared straight at the older man.

"How long?" Dean asked.

"How long what?" Bobby replied, confused.

"Sam's been in Hell for six months… how long do you think it'll take before he's… before he becomes a demon?" Dean elaborated, the question sending a sliver of ice sliding down Bobby's spine.

"I don't know, son," Bobby answered truthfully. He didn't know how much torture someone could go through before they succumbed. He wasn't sure how long it would take Sam to cave. Maybe it took longer for some people than it did for others.

Sam Winchester, who was such a kind person, who had a gentle soul, might be able to hold out for longer, trying his hardest to not become a monster. But then again, his compassion might be his downfall; he might break easier than others.

Bobby shook his head. He didn't want to be thinking about this. He shouldn't be thinking about this.

"What are you getting at?" he asked Dean instead. If the younger man had brought the idea of Sam becoming a demon up, then he definitely had a reason for it.

Dean took a deep breath through his nose, "If Sam does end up becoming a demon… I'm not going to exorcise him. I have the Colt and there are still some bullets left. I'll… I'll put him out of his misery."

Bobby nodded, not sure if he should be surprised.

Dean finished his beer in one long swallow before standing up.

"I'll take Jo back to Ellen's in the morning," he said, changing the subject of conversation.

Bobby couldn't help but sag a little bit at the pronouncement. He hardly saw Dean now and he missed the young man's company fiercely.

"You sure?" the older hunter asked, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

Dean nodded, seeming not to care about Bobby's feelings, "I was on my way to a new hunt in Illinois when you called me."

Bobby nodded, "Well, I'll see you in the morning then, son."

"Yeah," Dean answered distractedly, knowing that Bobby knew him and Jo would be gone before dawn.

W

Later that night, as he lay awake in bed, Bobby did something he hadn't done since before Karen had died.

Bobby closed his eyes, clasped his hands across his chest and prayed.

He prayed that Dean would heal and, if not return to the young man he'd once been, at least he'd smile again.

He prayed that Sam was strong enough to withstand the tortures of Hell (however selfish the thought might be) and remain that kind, gentle young man as long as possible.

He prayed that he'd be wise enough to take whatever was thrown at him in the future and that he'd be made into a better man for all his grief.

SPN

The leaves were changing, their vibrant green turning to sunny yellows, warm oranges and deep crimson as the temperature dropped. Sam could see the trees outside the mansion's windows, their limbs shaking in high winds as summer slipped away.

"Slave!" Sam cringed and peered over his shoulder at the sound of Kincaid's voice.

The demon never called Sam by his name. None of them did except for Lilith.

Sam lifted his head ever so slightly, careful to avoid eye-contact.

"Come here," Kincaid said, his tone similar to that of someone scolding a disobedient puppy.

Sam moved closer- reluctantly- to where the demon stood in the front hallway and looked down at what he was pointing at.

"What is that?" the demon asked.

Someone had tracked mud and leaves in through the front door, down the hall and into the house.

Sam didn't say anything.

"Answer me!" Kincaid snapped at Sam as though he was the culprit and the young man flinched.

"M-Mud…" Sam whispered and then added, "Master."

Without even looking up, Sam knew the demon was smirking. The young man bit his lip, ashamed.

"How did it get inside?" Kincaid asked in a quiet, dangerous voice and Sam shrugged.

"You didn't see who did it?" the demon asked. Sam knew that Kincaid wasn't really angry with whoever had tracked the dirt inside, he could have cared less. Any chance he got to make Sam's life hell; he took eagerly, and reveled in it.

Sam began to shake his head again but then answered out loud, "No, Master."

Kincaid grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair and pulled his head up, "What were you doing?"

The youngest Winchester opened his mouth but nothing came out; he didn't have any answer.

The demon released Sam and the young man shied away. Kincaid shook his head as though disappointed, "I thought we had you well-trained. Apparently I was mistaken."

Tears of fear welled up in Sam's eyes so that he didn't even see Kincaid's hand before it connected with his nose.

The young man staggered back, his hands going immediately to his face as warm blood gushed down over his mouth and chin, spattering his already blood-stained shirt.

"Clean this mess up," the demon growled, his tone insulted. Sam didn't move until he heard Kincaid's footsteps fade deeper into the mansion.

Wiping his face, Sam looked down at the blood smeared across his hand. Fingers trembling slightly, Sam lowered his hand and blotted them off on his jeans. He shouldn't linger; Kincaid will really be angry if he saw Sam just standing in the hallway. Walking slowly, cautiously because every footstep sent pain jolting through his almost certainly broken nose, Sam found the mop and bucket in the mud-room just off the entrance, right across from the hallway closet. Sam took the bucket down the hallway to the kitchen to fill it up with water. The bucket had a half-empty bottle of Pine-Sol in it so Sam poured a generous amount of the pine-scented cleaner in with the water gurgling from the tap.

Sam leaned against the counter as he waited for the bucket to fill, every so often wiping blood from his upper lip gingerly.

He suddenly thought about the very first time he'd broken his nose. He and Dean had been sparring- John's orders- in the backyard of a small house their father was renting. Dean was always careful when he trained with Sam but this time his brother had been distracted by something and hit Sam in the face instead of his chest. Sam recalled the momentary shock he'd felt right before the pain. Blood seemed to spurt out from his damaged nose and Sam actually thought he was dying. And then Dean had been there, apologizing profusely and telling Sam to lean his head forward- not tilt it back- so he wouldn't choke. Dean had helped his brother back inside, joking gently, trying to keep Sam's mind off the pain. And although Dean felt terrible for hurting his brother, albeit accidently, but Sam had already forgiven him.

But Dean wasn't here this time. Sam was all alone. His big brother wasn't there to tell him stupid stories to take his mind off the pain.

Turning the water off, Sam took the bucket back into the hallway and tried not to think too much about his brother.

W

"Do you know what day it is, Sammy?" Lilith asked in that little girl's voice of hers.

Sam shook his head. The trees outside were almost completely barren, only a few brown, dry leaves clung to the skeletal branches underneath leaden skies. Winter was fast approaching.

"It's November second!" the demon chirped, smiling as though the date indicated a holiday or celebration.

Sam forced himself not to react adversely; that was what Lilith wanted. Instead, he smiled, telling himself that this marked six extra months that Dean had lived.

Lilith peered up at the young man, her expression confused, "I thought this wasn't a happy day."

The smile instantly vanished from Sam's face. He stared pointedly at the carpet, not meeting the demon's gaze.

"The second of November is the anniversary of your mother's death, is it not?" Lilith asked.

Sam swallowed but didn't answer.

"Burnt up on the ceiling, didn't she?" she continued, "Her own roasting flesh must have been the last thing she ever smelled."

Sam closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about this. He just wanted Lilith to stop talking.

"I think we should do something special," the girl mused, "Since it is such an important day."

Sam raised his head slightly. He could hear the smile in Lilith's voice. The young man shook his head fearfully.

What was Lilith going to do?

Sam wrapped his arms around himself protectively as the little girl approached.

"Let's go, Sammy," the demon said, sounding just like a child, and held out her hand.

The young man only hesitated a moment, afraid of angering the demon, and reached out one trembling hand.

Lilith quickly wrapped her small hand around Sam's fingers, her strong grip belying the fact that she was no child.

Sam followed Lilith downstairs into the main part of the house, the girl letting go of his hand as soon as she set foot on the hardwood floor.

Sam started shaking fearfully when he heard the distinct sound of Kincaid's footsteps.

"Are you going to join us?" Lilith asked her minion and the male demon nodded, "You know I wouldn't miss this."

Sam shrank away from the two demons, his heart hammering frantically.

"Move!" Kincaid snapped, turning to Sam and the young man cringed.

Sneering, the demon grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and yanked him forward. Sam whimpered and raised his hands as if to fend off a blow.

Lilith chuckled, "Cute. He thinks you're going to hit him."

Kincaid grunted in response and shoved Sam away from himself, "I will if he doesn't start walking."

Sam hunched over protectively and did as he was told, heading towards the basement stairwell.

He heard the soft sound of Lilith's shoes as she left them but he didn't dare look anywhere but at the floor in front of him.

Kincaid followed right behind Sam as he made his way down the stairs, one of the young man's hands gripping the railing tightly as though he didn't trust the demon not to push him.

They walked past the billiards table and expensive leather couches as though they didn't exist. The door to Sam's room stood open, the stark interior illuminated by a single naked bulb as it always was. On the threshold Sam gave a cry of surprise when an invisible force threw him across the room. The young man landed on his back and struggled to get up, panic welling in his chest when he realized he couldn't move. The demon was using his power.

Kincaid smirked down at Sam, grinning toothily.

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes as the demon bent down and pulled his shirt up, exposing his chest. Sam struggled against the invisible bonds, nearly panting with exertion and terror.

The young man's eyes flicked to the side, widening when he saw what Lilith had brought down with her.

The demon queen was looking at Sam with a 'this-hurts-me-more-than-it-hurts-you' expression, the object she held almost seeming to dwarf her tiny host body.

Sam fought even harder against his restraints, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

"Would you like to do the honours?" Lilith asked and Kincaid nodded, his eyes flashing black for a moment in his excitement.

Taking the blow torch from the girl, Kincaid pressed the trigger and grinned happily at the sight of the blue-orange flame that spurted from the nozzle.

The firelight reflected in Sam's eyes as the demon lowered the weapon slowly, a scream of pain tearing itself from the young man's throat as the flame licked at his flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Nine Inch Nails song.


	7. Midnight Hands

Everything was ruined.

Dean Winchester was still alive.

He was supposed to be dead.

It had all been going so well. Dean Winchester, who sold his soul to bring his brother back from the dead, was scheduled to go to Hell within twelve months, less if he was killed sooner. Sam Winchester had tried- and failed- numerous times to withdraw his brother from his deal. Even Dean seemed intent on plunging into the Hellfire, warning his brother not to try and weasel him out of his contract.

Yes, everything was going according to plan.

Dean was going to go to Hell and break the first Seal, starting a chain of events in motion that could not be stopped.

But then Sam Winchester had made one final- seemingly futile- attempt to restore his brother's soul. No one was worried. Sam Winchester had failed in the past to have his brother's contract destroyed. Why should this be any different?

The demon agreed to deal. It was unbelievable! Unexpected, though not a complete disaster. No, all that was needed to break the first Seal was for a righteous man to draw blood in Hell. If it was Sam Winchester instead of Dean, then so be it.

Then Lilith, sly fiend that she was, did not damn the youngest Winchester to Hell. No, instead she kept Sam alive.

The demon queen knew the stakes and had agreed- or at least resigned- to them centuries earlier. It seemed though, that as the decades past, Lilith cared more for her own skin than the decimation of the human race. She knew that if destiny was allowed to play out as it had been determined so long ago, she would die. No one really paused to wonder if Lilith's actions were a result of a love for herself or the enjoyment she gained from tormenting the souls on Earth.

In one fell swoop, Lilith had ruined millennia of planning!

With no righteous man in Hell, the first Seal could not be broken. The Apocalypse could not begin.

The archangels were outraged at this catastrophe. No one knew exactly how to proceed.

Dean Winchester could not be killed; with no contract hanging over his head, his soul would ascend to Heaven.

It was unlikely that Lilith would bend under threats. Although she was only a demon, she was not easily intimidated. She would sooner let herself be killed by one of God's soldiers than take an order from one.

At a stalemate, the archangels could do nothing more than watch and wait, pretend that everything was going along accordingly. Maybe the Winchesters would surprise them; they had done so in the past, even though each of the celestial beings was loathe to admit it.

SPN

Castiel enjoyed watching humans. He found them to be some of the most fascinating creatures his father had created.

He was equally astonished by their capacity to hate as well as love.

The angel had been stationed on Earth- not the most desirable of posts- for a very long time and in all his centuries, Castiel found the humans never ceased to amaze him.

The horror of war always took his breath away, the sounds of the dying mixed with the crash of shield against shield or the roar of artillery fire never seemed to dull.

The music of laughter, of happy voices celebrating life, always managed to make even the worst times a little bit brighter.

The good and the bad and everything in between confused and dazzled the angel.

Castiel could see why his father had deemed humans his greatest creation. They were always overflowing with emotions. Unlike the angels, Castiel himself included, who were not designed to feel, only to do. Castiel knew what happened to angels who found emotions. It was oftentimes too much for them to handle and it always ended badly.

Castiel had seen and heard just about everything there was to see and hear on Earth. And he loved it all.

That was why he had been chosen to watch. He had always been curious about the humans and while some of his brothers and sisters felt distain for the creatures, Castiel felt intrigue. He never grew bored with watching. Even when night crept over a continent, Castiel would not move to a different locale where the sun reigned. He liked watching the humans even as they slept.

Castiel knew about the Winchesters. Of course he did. Their birth had been in the design since God had first created humans. The angel had seen the long chain that stretched out through the ages, the destiny of the two families that would come together and sire the two young men known as Sam and Dean Winchester.

Castiel had been sent to Earth not only to watch humans in general but to ensure that the Winchesters fulfilled their destiny. He had been by Mary Campbell's side as made her deal with the demon Azazel for her boyfriend's life. He had stood in Dean Winchester's nursery the day after his birth. He had watched along with John as the man's house burnt with unnatural fire.

Castiel had been there all along. Observing and reporting. Making sure that the archangels' plans were kept unsullied by any interference.

But the angel could not do anything when Sam Winchester had made his own deal. Castiel was allowed to watch but he was forbidden from action unless it was given by a direct order.

At first his thoughts had been similar to those in the minds of his superiors: the Boy with the Demon Blood would trade his soul for his brothers and break the first Seal in Hell.

The deal though, was not for a soul but for a life. Sam Winchester, although damned to a living Hell, would not become the righteous man.

Castiel did not know what to do. He had remained standing in the middle of the deserted road, surrounded by field on either side, wondering how the plan could have gone so horribly askew so suddenly.

Sam Winchester, of his own free will, had changed the path of destiny without even being aware of doing so.

Castiel watched mutely as the demon deposited the decoy in the grasses- an unfortunate young man- and disappeared. He didn't move when Dean Winchester approached, the growl of his old automobile giving him away even before the angel saw him.

Castiel had watched as Dean cried over the body of who he thought was his brother and burned the remains.

It wasn't until the Impala had vanished from the dreary road that Castiel moved.

He needed to report.

Castiel felt incredibly lost. This wasn't meant to have happened. He was the one who would free Dean Winchester from Hell after he had broken the first Seal and keep the brothers on track towards the Apocalypse.

What was he going to do now?

Castiel didn't even notice the freezing wind that cut through his vessel's trench coat as he appeared upon the summit of what the humans had named Mount Everest.

He heard the flutter of wings above the howl of the wind and turned to see Arcite.

The angel's vessel was a thin young man in his late teens with pale blonde hair and light blue eyes.

"What happened? Dean Winchester's contract was rescinded," the other angel questioned, his voice quiet.

"His brother made a deal with a demon," Castiel answered and his brother's blue eyes widened.

"The abomination is to be sent to Hell?" Arcite asked skeptically.

Castiel shook his head, "No, Samuel Winchester is living. Lilith will not kill him."

"Uriel must know of this immediately," Arcite announced and his wings flared out from where they lay against his back, visible only to Castiel.

Before Castiel could blink, the fair-haired angel was gone. He turned and looked out across the snow-covered peaks and steppes that surrounded the great mountain he stood upon.

"Castiel," the deep, rumbling voice startled the angel and he looked over his shoulder at the archangel.

"Uriel," he greeted, "It has been a long time since we've spoken face-to-face."

Arcite stood to one side, a nervous expression on his vessel's youthful face.

"Dean Winchester will not die?" the archangel asked and Castiel nodded.

"His brother made a deal with a demon that succeeded," the angel explained. He almost didn't believe it. Samuel Winchester had tried for months to prevent his brother's death only to find disappointment and now, when they were only weeks away from their goal, Lilith conceded.

"Why? Why would she agree now?" Castiel asked but Uriel ignored him.

"It is not in Hell?" the archangel asked. Castiel forced himself not to cringe at the term Uriel used to refer to the youngest Winchester.

"No," he answered, "Lilith is allowing him to live, although he has agreed to become her slave-"

Uriel interrupted, "Keep watching both of those mud-monkeys but do nothing."

"What are you going to-" Castiel began but the archangel vanished before he could finish.

Arcite peered balefully at his brother before he too, disappeared. He had the answers no more than Castiel himself did.

W

Castiel did as he had been ordered, as he had done for years now, and watched the Winchesters.

He watched as Dean Winchester threw himself recklessly into hunts to try and stifle his grief. He watched as the young man drank too much and spoke to his friends far too little.

Castiel could relate the human's feelings. He recalled the Great War and the devastation it had caused. Castiel remembered how many of his brothers and sisters- good angels albeit misguided- had been banished forevermore from Heaven and sent into to Pit. He remembered when his father disappeared and no one knew where He had gone. He recalled Gabriel's desertion shortly after the War.

Castiel still missed his sisters and brothers- both the dead and the exiled- and wished more than anything that events had turned out differently.

No one spoke of Lucifer or the third of their siblings who had gone with him, especially not if Michael was nearby.

Castiel wondered where his father and Gabriel had gone and if they would ever return.

Watching Dean Winchester try and drown his grief or dull it with physical pain caused by wounds obtained during hunts, Castiel wished he could tell the human that although the feeling never truly went away, it did ease with time.

But the angel could not make contact with Dean Winchester. He was forbidden from interacting with any human; his only prerogative was to watch and report.

Castiel tried not to be sympathetic to Samuel Winchester's plight. The young man- a man tainted with demon blood- had chosen his fate willingly.

The angel had seen how cruel humans could be to one another over the centuries, he had witnessed some of the most horrific tortures ever conceived by mortal minds and yet… and yet…

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months Castiel felt his heart going out to the young man.

Samuel Winchester- the Boy with the Demon Blood- who most nights cried himself to sleep, curled up protectively; Samuel Winchester, who called out his brother's name while in the midst of a nightmare; Samuel Winchester, who shrank away from any raised voice or hand; Samuel Winchester, whose only crime was that Azazel had poisoned him with demon blood while he was still a swaddling infant.

Castiel found himself only watching the youngest Winchester for only a few moments at a time, uncomfortable with long visits. He preferred Dean Winchester's sadness to Samuel Winchester's terror.

After many months passed with no word from above, Castiel began praying that the archangels would come to some sort of decision. This separation was killing the Winchesters.

Castiel knew he could not intervene with humans but watching Dean continue to grieve over a dead body that was not even his kin's and Sam live in a constant state of fear was becoming unbearable.

The angel almost didn't believe it when he was given permission to act for the Winchesters. Uriel's instructions were to be followed exactly and although they did not give Castiel a great amount of freedom, the lesser angel was happy to simply help the Winchesters in any way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Rise Against song.


	8. The Death And Resurrection Show

Dean let himself into his motel room and dropped his duffel bag onto the floor at the foot of the bed closest to the door.

He had had an unsuccessful day of talking to the witnesses of a supposed possession. No one had been very helpful; reluctant to speak to Dean even though he had been dressed as a Federal agent. Dean couldn't really blame them though, they were scared.

Every time the eldest Winchester caught wind of demon activity his heart clenched in his chest. Since he'd voiced his fears to Bobby months ago, Dean couldn't help but wonder if the next possession he investigated would be related to his brother. He feared that every black-eyed son of a bitch he came across was in fact Sam, his soul tortured and twisted into something unrecognizable and evil.

Though Dean knew what he would do if- or when- he met his brother again, the thought of shooting Sam, even if was to end his suffering, terrified him. Dean tried not to imagine what it would be like to kill the kid he'd practically raised by himself, the kid who'd always looked up to him to take care of him and keep him safe, the kid who'd only been trying to do the right thing, even if the packaging was different. It would still be Sam in whatever poor sap he'd chosen to possess, or at least some semblance of Sam, however small.

Shaking his head, Dean opened up the motel room's miniature fridge and grabbed a beer. He loosened his tie, shrugged off his suit jacket and sat down at the table. Pulling his cell phone from his pants pocket, Dean saw that he had several missed calls. The majority of them were from Bobby- no surprise there- but there were two from Ellen, one from Jo and a half-dozen from various hunters he'd partnered with temporarily in the months since his brother's death.

Dean set his phone face down on the table so he could enjoy his beer in peace.

The motel room was quiet. No clatter of a laptop keyboard, not whining from a pain-in-the-ass little brother, no rock and roll shouting from the small clock radio on the nightstand. Sirens and the whirr of car tires filtered through the thin walls of the room but they all but went unheard by its single occupant.

Dean was thinking about his last words to his brother and how pathetic and thoughtless they had been. He couldn't help it; those words haunted him. Instead of saying something meaningful he'd acted as though nothing had been wrong, as if he wasn't about to meet the same fate as Sam in a few day's time. He guessed it was stupid to be worried about something so stupid, it wasn't like he'd had a fight with Sam before he'd left but it amounted to the same thing in Dean's mind.

He'd told Sam not to forget the pie. Again.

That was all the farewell he'd given his baby brother before Sam went out to make his deal. Christ, with all that was happening Dean could have said something better than 'Don't forget the pie, Sammy.'

Dean stared at his empty beer bottle and stood up to get another.

Whoever said that time healed all wounds was a liar.

It only seemed to grow worse as the days passed. The longer Dean spent alone, without his brother, the deeper the wound seemed to become. Alcohol seemed to numb the pain for a little while but nothing made it go away completely.

Tossing the cap of his fresh bottle of beer into the trash can, Dean sat back down at the table. He guessed he should call Bobby soon or the old man would start to worry.

Later, Dean thought and drank deeply from his bottle.

SPN

Sam curled up as tightly as he could into the far corner of his room. Every breath he drew was painful. His eyes were closed fast as he tried to slow his pounding heart.

Kincaid had beaten him- punishing him for what, the young man didn't know- in a fit of rage. Sam couldn't even remember doing anything wrong. Perhaps the demon just wanted someone to take his anger out on.

Sam raised one shaking hand and wiped at his eyes. He was exhausted but the pain in his ribs prevented him from even thinking about sleep.

Instead, to try and distract himself from his aching body, Sam thought about his brother.

Sam tried to imagine what Dean was doing. Was he hanging out in a motel room watching one of those old action movies he liked? Was he flirting with a pretty waitress at a bar, hoping to get lucky? Dean could have been at Bobby's; playing cards with the old hunter or helping him fix up a car.

A pang of loneliness coursed through Sam and he choked back a sob that was attempting to escape. He bit down on the knuckles of one hand, hard, to try and quell his emotions. Unsuccessful, Sam shook as tears streamed down his face, pattering onto the concrete floor beneath him.

Sam wanted his brother. He wished he could have been able to see Dean just once more. He had been denied the time to say goodbye to the only family member he had left.

Not that Sam deserved it.

He was a slave. He was nothing.

"Dean," Sam whimpered so quietly the name was almost inaudible.

Crying hurt but Sam couldn't stop. The last time he had seen Dean; his brother had been sitting on one of the beds in their motel room, staring at the television screen. The last words Dean had spoken to Sam were to remind him about the pie. Sam remembered how he'd rolled his eyes and told Dean that he'd get his pie. Sam wished he had said something else. He wished he hadn't left Dean in the dark about what he'd been about to do. Sam hadn't even dared to utter very sincere parting words for fear that Dean would become suspicious and try to stop him.

Sam knew it didn't matter now. What's done was done and there was no going back. He could not- would not- go back on his deal. If Dean could face an eternity of Hell without even batting an eyelash then Sam would endure his servitude.

Dean deserved that much.

Dean shouldn't be punished for Sam's mistake.

The world was a far better place with Dean in it, even if Sam never saw that world.

SPN

Bobby rubbed tiredly at his eyes and glanced at the clock above the fireplace. It was getting late but he didn't want to go to sleep. Not just then.

Dean had promised to get in touch with him and the veteran hunter did not want to miss that call.

The eldest Winchester hardly spoke to Bobby at all now. Ever since his brother's death, the young man had drifted farther and farther away from his friend.

Bobby didn't know what to do. Every time he mentioned how little Dean came by, the young man grew defensive and angry. Dean accused him of coddling, of hovering too much, not giving him enough space.

Bobby knew that Dean just didn't want to have to think about Sam.

The old hunter knew well what Dean was going through. He himself had acted the same way after his wife's death. He hadn't wanted to see any of their friends because they only brought up painful memories and had donated most of Karen's clothes and personal effects to charities, unable to stand them being in the house.

For ages, Bobby had isolated himself from everyone who cared about him because it was easier than facing his own pain.

And that was exactly what Dean was doing now.

Over the months since Sam's death, there were many times when Bobby just wanted to grab Dean and shake the boy to try and knock some sense into him.

He knew that tactic wouldn't work. It wouldn't have worked with him either. The only thing that had finally cracked the shell he'd created was the sight of a distraught young father by the name of John, pleading with him to teach him about monsters and trailing two young sons behind him.

Bobby shook his head and sighed, closing the book he was reading.

Dean had always wanted so much to be like his Daddy and now he seemed to be fulfilling that childhood dream. He too was obsessed with the death of someone who had been very near and dear to his heart.

Only this time there was no one to pin the blame on because, in reality, the fault was Sam's.

Sure, the Crossroads demon had agreed to the deal, but it was the youngest Winchester who had persisted, persevered and been irritating enough to actually meet with success.

Lilith herself might hold the contract, as she held Dean's not so long ago, but she was a formidable adversary and not even the eldest Winchester could go toe to toe with her and live to tell the tale.

Sam had known what he was doing, knew what he was in for when he'd made that deal. Bobby didn't blame the boy, how could he, even though he thought he'd done a damn stupid thing. All Sam had been trying to do was save his brother, just as Dean had saved him.

It was like something from Shakespeare, Bobby thought.

But without any villain to take revenge on, Dean was directionless, lost. He had no way to channel all his anger and grief.

He hunted but that wasn't the same. Dean was not hunting the monster responsible for his brother's death. He could kill all the beasties out there and still be unsatisfied.

Bobby was pretty sure that Dean knew as well as he did that Sam had had a hand in his own demise and those demons involved had merely been pawns.

Although Bobby was aware that demons had their own agendas, no one was forcing them to make the deal. Previously Sam had been spurned in all of his attempts to get Dean released from his contract.

Now Bobby worried that Dean's anger and frustration would get him killed.

He grew concerned if he didn't hear from the young man on a regular basis. Bobby didn't expect Dean to pour his heart out to him over the phone or describe every mundane detail of his hunts but he appreciated a polite 'hello' and maybe an occasional 'how are you?'.

The shrill ringing of a phone caused Bobby to jump in his seat and he raced into the kitchen, grabbing one phone labeled 'Singer Salvage' from the half-dozen lined up on the wall.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, slightly out of breath, "That you son?"

"It's me," the younger man answered, much to his friend's relief.

"How you doing?" Bobby asked and cringed, knowing that Dean was likely to deflect the question.

"Fine," the young hunter answered, "The motel beds still feel like they're made of granite and the diner food still tastes like cardboard but I'm not complaining."

"You on a hunt?" Bobby asked, knowing Dean would open up to that line of questioning more eagerly than he would about queries about his personal welfare.

"Uh huh," Dean muttered and Bobby lifted an eyebrow at the tone he heard over the phone, "What is it?"

"Might be demons," Dean answered, sounding both exhausted and sheepish.

Bobby leaned against the kitchen doorframe and wiped his free hand over his face, "Electrical storms? Sulfur?"

"There were storms but I haven't traced any sulfur," Dean answered, "And no one is talking about smelling it either."

"Could be a ghost," Bobby suggested.

He heard a rustle on the other end of the line and realized that Dean was shaking his head.

"I don't think so," Dean spoke, "Not with the victims… not with the way they were killed."

Bobby bit his lip. He wanted to ask Dean if he wanted help, wanted to demand the young man allow him to help, but Bobby knew that it would be ill-advised. Dean would ask for his assistance if he needed it and not before.

"Alright," he sighed, "Just keep your head, you hear me?"

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean mumbled.

"I mean it," the veteran hunter growled.

"Listen, I'm kind of busy right now… research, you know… so if that's all you wanted to talk to me about…." Dean said and Bobby sighed.

"Go on," he surrendered, "But if I don't hear from you in-"

"I know, Bobby," Dean interrupted, exasperated, "You'll come here and break your foot off in my hind parts."

Bobby almost smiled, would have smiled, but there was no humor in the younger man's voice. It was dull and emotionless, tired. Bobby was really starting to hate that tone.

Before he could reply, there was a click and the line went silent.

Bobby set the phone back in its cradle and remained where he was for a long moment. He was really starting to consider which one of them would end up sleeping in a pine box first.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Bobby grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard above the stove and poured some into a coffee mug.

The veteran hunter stood there for a long time, in front of the oven, in his ageing kitchen, without really seeing it, sipping at his whiskey without really tasting it, thinking about the small, freckled boy he'd met all those years ago who had cradled his baby brother to his chest and told the infant that he would protect him for whatever came their way.

SPN

Months passed by in a blur of hunts and motel rooms and bars and diners.

Dean hardly knew what day of the week it was anymore.

He knew things were getting worse, that he was slowly but surely losing control but he didn't care. Sam was gone; his purpose for living was no longer alive.

Dean's heart was no longer in the hunt. He continued only because it was the only thing his was truly skill in. He really didn't even care about the people he was saving anymore. All he wanted to do was kill the monster and get the hell out of Dodge.

He no longer felt like the hero.

The more he thought about the night of his brother's death the more he resented him. Of course Dean still loved his brother, how could he not? But he also felt a certain hatred for the kid.

He had saved Sam and that was that. There was no weaseling out. That was what the Crossroads demon had said.

But Sam had gone and thrown everything Dean had done for him back in his face. As if Dean's sacrifice meant nothing to him.

Why'd you have to go and do it, Sammy? Dean wondered.

Dean still loved his brother and missed him. He felt guilty for letting Sam leave that night, he couldn't believe that he hadn't seen anything in his brother's face or heard it in his voice that would tip him off.

He had tried so hard to make his last year with Sam a good one but instead of being happy, his brother had only thought of saving him at every turn.

Dean loved Sam for that and hated him too. Why couldn't Sam ever let things go?

As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Dean continued to go through life- the life his brother had given back to him- on autopilot.

He knew it was not what Sam would have wanted for him but Sam was gone and he was never going to come back.

SPN

Sam stared despondently at the floor.

"Cheer up, Sammy!" Lilith exclaimed but the young man didn't even react.

The small demon walked forward and tilted her head up so that she could look into Sam's face, "What's wrong?"

The young man didn't answer.

Lilith reached out and placed a small hand on Sam's pant leg.

"Sam," the demon spoke again, "Look at me."

The young man, trembling with fear, did as he was ordered and lifted his head.

Lilith smiled. Sam's face was pale and thin, his expression full of pain and uncertainty. There was no trace of the hatred that Lilith had seen when she'd first met the hunter. Although Sam Winchester was a spirited young man, he was only human and humans could only endure so much before they cracked. .

Sam quickly looked away from the demon's penetrating gaze.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Sammy," Lilith said, "You did what I told you to."

The young man nodded.

Lilith smirked.

And Kincaid had wanted to feed him to the Hellhounds.

W

As the months went by, Lilith continued to watch Sam's deterioration progress. It was truly remarkable. The demon was actually very proud of her work. She knew she'd kept Sam alive for a reason.

Lilith was shocked at how much the young man had changed. She didn't even think Dean would recognize his brother if he saw him.

One morning in early May Lilith went down to Sam's room along with Kincaid. She unlocked the door, turned on the light and stepped inside. The young man was curled in a ball in the corner of the room, fast asleep. Kincaid scowled at Sam as though he were a particularly disgusting insect but said nothing.

"Sammy!" Lilith called and the young man startled awake, looking around wildly for a moment before dropping his gaze.

"Do you know what day it is?" the demon asked but Sam made no reply.

"It's May second! Your birthday," Lilith continued in a cheerful tone.

Sam's only response was to start shaking fearfully. He was probably thinking about what had happened on the last special occasion the demon had been excited about.

Yes, Sam Winchester had sold himself into slavery and Lilith had been more than happy to deliver.

She smiled at the small whimpers of fear Sam was making and stepped forward, a maniacal grin on her childish features.

SPN

Dean stared unseeingly at the rows of bottles and glasses across from him at the bar. He was already on his fourth beer and knew that it'd take a few more to draw him into a blissful haze.

It was May second. Sam's birthday. The one-year anniversary of his death.

Dean drained his bottle of beer and gestured to the bartender for another one.

It was going to be a long, long night.

W

Dean, feeling no better for all the alcohol he'd consumed, drove slowly back to his motel room.

He didn't know what he was going to do. He really should call up Bobby; it had been a while since he'd spoken to the old man.

Letting himself into the motel room, Dean sighed and raked a hand down his face. He really felt like shit and all he wanted to do was sleep for a few hours and not think about his baby brother.

Dean went into the bathroom and turned on the tap, rinsing his face with the cold water before drying off with a towel. He tossed the towel onto the counter beside the sink, turned to walk out and nearly collided with the man standing in his way.

"Dean Winchester," the intruder said in a gravelly tone.

Instead of replying, Dean grabbed the flask of holy water he always carried around with him now from his jeans pocket and splashed the liquid right in the man's face.

Nothing happened.

"I am not a demon," the stranger said calmly.

"Give me your hand," Dean demanded, brandishing a silver knife.

The man did not comply but simply said, "I am not a shapeshifter either."

Dean squinted at the guy. He was short and nerdy, with disheveled black hair and large blue eyes. He wore a tan trench coat over a white dress shirt and black tie. Glancing down, Dean saw black dress pants and shoes.

"Who are you?" he asked dumbly.

"My name is Castiel," the stranger said in his odd gravelly voice, "I am an angel of the Lord."

Dean blinked for a moment and then burst out laughing. An angel? Someone was pulling his leg.

"Yeah, right," Dean chortled, "And I'm the President."

The man- angel- whatever he was tilted his head, "I believe the current President of the United States is George W. Bush."

The reply only caused Dean to laugh harder. Was this guy for real?

"Are you a friend of Bobby's?" Dean asked once he had gotten himself under control.

"Bobby?" the man asked, "Do you mean Robert Singer? I am not a friend of his but I-"

Dean pushed past the guy and ran his hand through his hair, "Why are you here? How did you get inside? I thought I locked the door…"

Dean turned to check the door as he spoke and his words died in his throat when he saw that both the deadbolt and sliding lock were still engaged.

Dean grabbed his gun from where his duffel sat on his bed and pointed it at the intruder.

"Are you a demon?" he growled threateningly.

"You are already aware that holy water does not affect me so why-" the man was cut off when Dean pulled the trigger.

Castiel did not even stagger. He simply stared down at the bullet hole in his dress shirt and his eyebrows furrowed.

"I am not an enemy, Dean," he said quietly.

"Move and I'll shoot again," the hunter threatened, shaken somewhat that the man was still standing.

"I am not here to harm you," the man held his hands up in the international gesture of surrender, "I promise you."

"What do you want?" Dean asked without lowering his gun.

"Your brother, Samuel, he is not dead," Castiel said and Dean felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"What?" he asked, stunned.

No, this stranger was wrong. Sam was dead. Dean had seen his body, burned it himself.

"Samuel is not in Hell as you have been led to believe," Castiel elaborated.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Dean asked, the hand holding the gun was trembling slightly.

"I can… show you," the man took a step forward, "If you'll permit me."

Dean nodded, "Don't try anything funny."

The man's stoic expression did not change. He walked up to Dean and raised one hand, placing it gently but firmly against the hunter's brow.

"What's supposed-" Dean began but his words were cut off abruptly as the old country road appeared before his eyes, the motel room dissolving into nothingness.

Dean stared wide-eyed at his surroundings. It was dark but Dean recognized where he was: The place where Sam had made his deal. He saw the Impala's tail-lights burning red a few feet ahead of him and could make out the shape of his brother sitting in the driver's seat. Dean made to go forward, to catch up to his brother and stop him but he was unable to move. He was frozen in place. A spectator and nothing else.

"Sammy!" Dean cried but his brother did not react.

He watched helplessly as Sam got out of the Impala and turned around, staring at something inside the vehicle with a sad smile on his face.

"Sam! No! Don't do this!" Dean called but Sam remained oblivious.

He struggled to move- if only to take a single step forward- as Sam walked around to the trunk of the Impala and gathered the things he would need to summon a Crossroads demon.

"Sam! Please! Listen to me! Sammy!" Dean tried again, knowing it was futile. All he could do was watch his brother go through the motions as though a movie was playing before his eyes.

Sam crouched down in the middle of the four intersecting roads and began digging a shallow hole with his hands. Dean felt a lump form in his throat when he saw his brother wipe his sleeve across his eyes and stood, waiting.

"No, Sammy," Dean begged, "Don't do this, please. Go back now. Get in the car and come back."

Dean startled when the Crossroads demon appeared out of thin air. She was certainly a beauty- ivory skin and flaming red hair- but Dean wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her.

Dean smiled at the demon's reaction to the sight of his brother.

"What part of 'your brother's Hellhound chow' don't you understand?" the woman hissed and turned to leave.

Dean's heart skipped a beat. Maybe she would leave and Sam would come back!

"Wait!" Sam cried and reached out to stop the demon.

Dean could barely breathe as he listened to Sam practically beg the bitch to tear up his contract.

He was shocked at how determined Sam was. Even knowing that he would surely die if his brother's contract was destroyed, he seemed to accept it.

"Oh no Sammy, no," Dean whispered as he listened to his brother try and barter with the demon, vying for as little as an hour to live until the Hounds tore him to pieces.

Once the demon decided to go speak to her superiors and left Sam alone, Dean tore into his brother, regardless of whether the younger man could hear him or not.

"What are you doing, Sam?!" Dean snapped, "Get out of there! Leave this alone!"

The Crossroads demon reappeared, startling both brothers.

Dean felt his heart break for his brother when Sam's eyes grew wide in astonishment, his mouth forming an 'o' of surprise when the demon told him that it had all worked out.

"Sammy… what did you do?" he asked sadly. He wanted to turn away, close his eyes but he knew he had to watch this.

Dean's confusion mirrored his brother's when the demon explained that he was not bound for Hell.

But what about the body? Dean wondered, it looked like Sam…

The eldest Winchester knew something was wrong. This wasn't how demons worked. They were in it for the souls; he had never heard of any demon demanding anything else as payment.

Dean leaned forward eagerly when the Crossroads demon told Sam that she would explain what had transpired between her and her superiors.

"I know you were hoping to get the grand tour of Hell," the demon smirked, "But Lilith had other plans and you know nobody's going to argue with her."

What was that bitch up to? Dean wondered, why would she go back on my deal now?

"You're familiar with the idea of indentured servitude, right?" the Crossroads demon asked and Dean felt his heart drop beating.

Oh my God. The rest of the demon's words were drowned out by Dean's cries.

"Don't do it Sammy! Please! Run away now! You can still get out of this!" he shouted at his brother futilely.

"When does my contract start?" Sam asked; Dean could hear his voice tremble slightly as he strove to sound confident.

"As soon as we kiss, Sweetheart," the demon replied smugly.

"You touch him and I'll kill you!" Dean snarled at the woman who was just as unheeding of his words as Sam was.

"Alright," Sam whispered, voice determined and his expression one of acceptance.

"Sammy," Dean breathed, "Don't do it… please…"

He watched as the Crossroads demon stepped forward and raised her arms so that her wrists rested on Sam's broad shoulders. Sam ducked his head down and closed his eyes as they kissed.

The demon pulled back first, a satisfied look on her face. With his brother's back to him, Dean couldn't see Sam's expression and was glad for that.

Dean watched the demon put her hand on the back of Sam's head, inclining it down towards her face as she whispered something too low for him to hear.

Seconds later, both Sam and the Crossroads demon had vanished into thin air. Dean felt his knees grow weak and threaten to buckle.

He sucked in a shaky breath and only then noticed he had tears drying on his cheeks.

Sam was gone. Again.

The world shifted, blurred as if it was fast-forwarding and Dean felt his stomach protest the unusual motion.

When everything grew still once more, Dean saw that he was still in the same place as before. The Impala sat as if forgotten in the middle of the road but he knew that hardly any time had passed.

What was happening now? He wondered sadly.

Dean startled when the Crossroads demon walked out of thin air, followed by one of the ugly and horrific creatures he had ever seen.

The beast was large; the size of a draft horse but it had a distinctly lupine form. Its hairless skin was black with what looked like patches burnt off to reveal the bone and muscles beneath, its eyes looked as though someone had simply stuck two pieces of burning embers in its massive head. Its upright, triangular ears were tattered and swiveled constantly as though to pick up the slightest noise. The ground sizzled wherever the creature stepped, the gravel of the road hissing and turning red-hot, the grass of the field singeing immediately and dying.

It's a Hellhound, Dean realized, shocked. That thing is a Hellhound. No wonder anyone who sees them are terrified out of their minds.

Dean's gaze traveled from the creature's large, talon-tipped paws to its head once again and saw that the beast was holding something in its jaws.

The Crossroads demon paused in the middle of the field that had gone completely silent. Not even the crickets chirruped in the presence of the demonic hound.

The creature released its burden and Dean felt his bile rise when he saw it was a man. The body flopped limply into the grass. The demon carefully rolled the corpse over and maneuvered the limbs into the position they had been in when Dean had first seen them: legs pinned beneath the body as if the man had fallen where he stood, hands clenched and raised to his face as though he'd been trying to fend off an attack. The man's face was a ruin, underneath the bone-deep bite marks. His chest was laid open, his flesh shredded and his bones snapped. Dean closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered coming across the very same body a year ago.

Taking a deep breath, Dean opened his eyes once more and saw the demon reach out and pat the Hellhound's snout.

"Not even his own mother would be able to recognize him now," the demon smirked.

The hound groaned lowly in pleasure and a long, pointed, black tongue lolled out from its mouth.

"Now all we have to do is see if it fools that idiot Winchester," the woman told the Hellhound.

The demon and Hellhound seemed to dissolve as the motel room came back into focus.

Dean staggered away from Castiel and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead, eyes narrowed in pain.

"Are you well?" the stranger asked emotionlessly.

"What… what was that?" Dean managed to ask before he collapsed onto the end of the bed, his head throbbing with pain.

"I apologize," Castiel said, "I did not know the experience would be so jarring."

"No," Dean muttered, the headache already seeming to dissipate with each passing second, "I mean… did that really happen? That was real, wasn't it?"

"Yes," the angel replied, "That is how Sam's deal unfolded."

"I was there!" Dean exclaimed, sitting up and moaning when the pain flared in his head, "I was right there!"

"No," the stranger corrected, "I was simply showing you what had occurred in the past. You were no more there than you are involved in a film reel you watch. I know you tried to communicate with your brother but that was impossible. You were simply seeing shadows of past events."

Dean paused for a moment, "So you're like the Ghost of Christmas Past?"

The man tilted his head again, "I do not understand what you are talking about."

"Never mind," Dean muttered, "But that wasn't some kind of trick… Sam's… he's still alive?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, "Lilith really did exchange your soul for your brother's servitude."

The angel stepped back when Dean jumped up from the bed and began to pace.

"How could I have been so stupid?! That guy… that wasn't Sam! I should have known!" Dean berated himself.

The angel's expression turned sympathetic, "It is not your fault. The demons were very clever. They never meant for you to know what happened to Sam."

Dean paused and glanced at the stranger, "So Sammy's been alive this whole time?"

Castiel nodded.

He tensed when Dean approached him and grabbed his shoulders tightly, "You have to help me get him back! You said you're an angel so you can rescue him, can't you?"

The black-haired man appeared shocked by Dean's reaction.

"Yes, that is why I have come," he said "I will help you retrieve your brother."

The hunter turned away from the man and began packing his duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" the angel asked.

"I'm coming with you," Dean answered and threw his toothbrush and toothpaste into the open bag without looking.

"What? What is it?" Dean asked when the man's brow furrowed.

"It is dangerous," he said calmly, "Lilith is a very powerful-"

"Screw Lilith!" Dean snarled, "I'm not afraid of her."

"You should be," the angel replied.

Dean narrowed his eyes at the man, "What are you saying?"

"Lilith is unlike any demon you've encountered before," Castiel said, "She will not give Sam up without a fight."

Dean wasn't convinced. Azazel had been strong too but he had been felled by just one bullet.

"I can take her," the hunter said confidently, "I have the Colt."

"No!" the angel exclaimed; raising his voice for the first time, "The gun will not kill Lilith."

Dean frowned, "Okay… than how do we gank her?"

"I will deal with the demons," the angel said vaguely.

Dean shrugged, "Alright, if you're sure."

"This is not a game," Castiel admonished.

"I know," Dean grumbled, "I just want Sammy back."

"I understand," the angel said softly.

Dean turned away from the strange man and continued packing his effects, suddenly quiet and pensive.

He couldn't believe that his brother had been alive this whole time. Dean felt guilty that he had fallen so easily into the demons' trap and had accepted his brother's death. He knew that demons were conniving bastards but at the sight of that mangled corpse, all logic, all John Winchester's teachings had flown away, leaving Dean with only his feelings of grief and sadness instead.

I'm so sorry, Sammy, Dean thought as he zipped up his luggage and grabbed his jacket, slipping it on over his shoulders, I'm coming to get ya.

SPN

Castiel knew he was taking a huge risk in bringing Dean Winchester with him but he could not deny the man.

He thought that it would be better for Samuel if he saw his brother instead of just some stranger.

Dean grabbed the keys to his automobile and looked expectantly at the angel, "So you going to give me directions or what?"

Castiel almost smiled.

"We do not need to take your vehicle," he said, "I can take us to your brother much faster."

"Uh… how? Do you have a rocket ship hidden in that coat of yours or something?" Dean asked with a smirk but the angel did not return the gesture.

"I can travel to any location with but a single thought," the angel explained and saw confusion dawn on the human's face.

"I believe that it is fairly similar to the idea of teleportation you use in science fiction literature," Castiel tried to explain.

"Ah… uh huh," Dean nodded but he clearly did not understand.

Castiel reached out a hand towards the young man, "I will not hurt you."

Dean allowed the angel to press his fingers against this brow and Castiel instantly imagined the mansion where Sam Winchester was being held prisoner.

The angel landed lightly on his feet in the living room but the human staggered to one side and almost collapsed. Castiel quickly reached out and grabbed Dean's jacket to prevent him from falling.

Castiel watched grimly as the human put his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths. Turning his attention from Dean, Castiel surveyed the mansion, using his powers to pinpoint the locations of the demons.

He knew he was not allowed to kill Lilith- she was still useful- but Uriel had had no qualms about sending her back to the Pit. She was strong; she would claw herself back up soon enough anyway. The other demons, Lilith's loyal followers, could be destroyed.

Castiel closed his eyes and his power flared out, reaching into every room of the large house, seeking out each and every demonic spirit that was not the Lilith and annihilating it.

"Hey," a voice caused the angel to open his eyes, "What are you doing? Meditating or something?"

"Be silent," the angel snapped, "Lilith is still here."

The young man immediately closed his mouth and glanced around the living room suspiciously.

Unfortunately Castiel would need to come in direct contact with the demon queen in order to exorcise her.

The only positive was that Lilith almost certainly knew that they were there and would defend her territory.

"Where is she?" Dean whispered cautiously, stepping anxiously from foot to foot.

"I seek her out," Castiel told the hunter, "Your brother is being kept in the basement."

Dean nodded and headed out of the living room without looking back.

Castiel concentrated on the demon queen's location and appeared in the bedroom of the little girl.

Lilith looked up at the angel, her expression holding no surprise whatsoever.

"I wondered when one of you winged-monkeys would come for me," she said in a child-like voice, "Are you going to kill me now?"

The angel shook his head, "You will not die this day."

Lilith grinned, "Don't I feel special."

"Stand, fiend," the angel demanded and Lilith stood, smoothing out her dress as she did so.

"I'll get out again," she commented casually.

"That is not my concern," Castiel said.

Lilith chuckled, "No, I suppose it isn't. You just follow orders like a good little soldier, right?"

Castiel stepped forward, raising his hand.

"Tell me, how angry were all your friends when Sam Winchester agreed to my terms?" Lilith smirked.

Castiel said nothing. He concentrated his power, preparing to banish the demon.

"You know, even when you rescue poor little Sammy, the contract still holds," Lilith taunted, "Even when you exorcise me, that deal doesn't go away."

Castiel paused. This sounded as though it was important, something he should keep in mind and report back to Uriel when the time came.

"As long as I'm alive," Lilith continued, grinning sardonically, "Sammy's mine. You see he didn't read the fine print. The contract says that Sam is my slave as long as I want but it is indefinite, so, if Sam were to die… where do you think he'll go?"

"Hell," Castiel breathed, "That was a stupid mistake-"

Lilith began laughing, causing the angel to stop talking.

"You won't get your Righteous Man if that's what you're thinking!" Lilith exclaimed smugly, "The man must shed blood in Hell but if Sam never gets the chance… if he is never given the knife than you're still at a stalemate."

Castiel's eyes widened. The demon had thought of everything to stymie the Apocalypse.

He moved with lightning-fast reflexes and grabbed the front of Lilith's dress, dragging her forward. She did not appear afraid of him, instead she smirked knowingly, looking right into his eyes as he placed a hand on her brow and banished her once again to the Pit.

The body of Lilith's host- Mandy Beard- fell to the floor lifelessly.

Castiel, shocked by the new development that had arisen, recalled that he had sent Dean Winchester in search of his brother and quickly traveled down to the lowest level of the mansion.

The encounter with Lilith had taken only seconds and Dean had just reached the bottom of the basement stairs when Castiel appeared in the den, amongst the leather-upholstered furniture.

Dean jumped in surprise but the angel ignored the reaction.

"Follow me," Castiel instructed gruffly and led the way down the hallway to the room where the youngest Winchester was.

The door was made of a heavy metal, secured by a padlock but neither posed any problem for the angel. Castiel opened the door, the lock snapping as he did so and Dean pushed past him, into the room.

"Sammy?" Dean called quietly. The angel tilted his head; he could clearly see the young man curled up in the far corner of the room, illuminated by the dirty light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Sammy," Dean spoke again as he stepped closer, "It's me… Dean."

The young man looked up and Castiel heard the older sibling gasp. Sam's clothes were torn and filthy, his face pale and thin, his eyes wide with fear.

"D-Dean?" the young man whispered nervously.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean said and smiled sadly, "I'm here."

"N-no! You c-can't be here!" Sam exclaimed suddenly, sitting up and pressing back against the wall, his eyes darted around the room in near panic.

He caught sight of the angel and immediately lowered his gaze to the floor, trembling.

"Sammy," Dean stepped forward, "It's alright, we're here to rescue you."

"N-no," Sam whimpered, "Y-you ha-have to leave… Lilith will k-kill you."

"Lilith is no longer here," Castiel spoke up for the first time and the young man flinched at the sound of the angel's voice.

"Are you…" Sam hesitated, eyes never leaving the grimy concrete floor beneath him, "my new m-master?"

"I am an angel of the Lord," he explained, his tone still rough but gentle, "My name is Castiel."

The human shook his head and wrapped his arms protectively around his midsection.

"Sammy," Dean stepped forward again and his brother cringed away from him, clearly afraid.

"Dean," the hunter looked over at the angel, "We should not linger."

The older brother frowned, "Okay."

Castiel strode forward, past Dean until he was standing only inches away from the youngest man, "Samuel Winchester, we mean you no harm. We are here to rescue you."

"Y-you can't!" the young man cried, pushing himself against the wall as though he were trying to disappear into it, "I h-have to stay here! The deal-"

"Lilith will not touch your brother," Castiel assured the young man, "Both of you are safe from her."

Although Castiel knew he was lying, he didn't see a way around it.

Sam slowly lifted his head and looked at the angel, large tears welling up in his eyes.

"Sammy," Dean reached towards his brother but Sam flinched away, looking at the floor again.

Castiel realized that they were getting nowhere with the young man and he knew that it would be unwise to stay longer than necessary.

He brought his hand down towards Sam and the younger Winchester whimpered in fear. Castiel pressed his palm to the human's brow and Sam slumped forward, unconscious.

"What did you just do?!" Dean exclaimed, eyes wide with shock, his tone accusatory.

"Your brother is only asleep," Castiel answered calmly, keeping one hand on the young man's forehead, "We must leave this place. Tell me where you wish to go."

"Uh… the motel room I guess," Dean shrugged, his gaze locked on his sibling.

Castiel nodded and touched Dean's face with his free hand.

The eldest Winchester appeared to have been prepared for the second flight; he didn't stagger as much as previously.

"Sam," Dean crouched down where Castiel had deposited his brother on the floor, "Are you awake?"

"He will sleep for a while longer," the angel told the hunter.

"You said you knew Bobby Singer," Dean looked up at the angel, "Can you take us there?"

Castiel nodded, "I can."

"And my car," Dean continued, "Can't leave her."

The angel eyed the young man, insulted at the thought of having to transport the young man's vehicle as well.

"I am not some pack animal," Castiel argued.

"Okay, sorry," Dean apologized, "We can stay here then… I can call Bobby."

The angel watched as Dean brushed his brother's bangs carefully away from his forehead.

"What did those bastards do to you, Sammy?" the eldest Winchester whispered.

"If you would like," Castiel said, "I can bring Robert Singer here."

Dean didn't look up at the angel, "Whatever."

Castiel remained where he was a moment longer before disappearing.

SPN

Bobby looked at his calendar through bleary eyes. He could hardly believe that Sam had been gone for an entire year; it seemed unreal.

Lifting his glass to his lips, the grizzled hunter let out a shocked cry when a man appeared right in front of him.

Grabbing the gun he had taped underneath his kitchen table, Bobby pointed the weapon at the would-be intruder.

"Get the hell outta my house if you know what's good for ya!"

"Robert Singer," the man said, "I am a friend. Dean Winchester sent me."

Bobby barked a humorless laugh, "That boy don't talk to me on a good day, what's gonna make you think I'd believe he sent someone along?"

"My name is Castiel, I am an angel," the man said, "Please, Dean and Sam need you."

"Sam? Sam's dead," Bobby snarled, finger itching to pull the trigger of his gun.

"He is alive as you or me," the man said and Bobby had heard enough. His finger twitched but he suddenly found himself empty-handed. The gun was gone!

"Balls!" Bobby struggled to his feet and reached for the half-finished bottle of Jim Beam in front of him.

"I see you are inebriated," Castiel said, "Perhaps now is not the best time to try and fight me."

Bobby squinted at the man, taking in his trench coat and dress clothes, his sincere blue eyes and messy black hair.

"An angel, huh?" Bobby muttered.

"Yes," Castiel replied.

"Why now?" the veteran hunter asked gruffly, "Why do you choose now of all times to show up?"

The man did not answer, "Dean is waiting for you."

"This ain't a trick?" Bobby asked. He wasn't sure if this man was an enemy. If he had been a threat, he was sure he would have attacked already.

"No," Castiel confirmed, "I am not lying to you."

Bobby walked around the kitchen table, one hand against the flat surface for support.

Castiel moved forward, "You cannot help the Winchesters in your condition."

Before the older man could protest, the stranger had placed a hand to his chest and suddenly Bobby felt as sober as he had been on the day he was born. He blinked in astonishment at the angel.

"Yer the real McCoy," Bobby whispered.

The angel made no reply but moved his hand from Bobby's chest to his brow and in seconds they were traveling back to Dean's motel room.

Bobby nearly fell on his face as soon as his feet touched the carpet. He was sure he was going to be sick and he groaned miserably.

"Bobby!" the exclamation startled the veteran hunter and his eyes shot open wide.

The older man barely had time to speak before Dean was dragging him forward, one hand on his wrist.

Bobby gaped in shock at the younger man's appearance. Dean's face was flushed and his eyes were wide and red-rimmed.

"It's Sammy!" Dean nearly shouted, "He's alive. He was alive the entire time. I didn't know. The demons used a different body-"

"Calm down son," Bobby said but stopped when he saw the young man lying unconscious on the motel room floor.

"Christ on a cracker," Bobby muttered and stared at the youngest Winchester.

"Bobby?" Dean called, shaking the man's arm, "Are you going to have a heart attack on me?"

"Is it really him?" Bobby managed to whisper. It felt like his heart had indeed stopped beating.

"Yeah," Dean answered quietly, "It's Sammy."

"Yer friend-" Bobby glanced around, the man had vanished.

"He was right here," Bobby said, blinking a couple of times as though his eyes were the problem.

Dean stared wide-eyed around the motel room, "Hey! Castiel! Where are you? Angel!"

Bobby glanced at the eldest Winchester, dumbfounded.

Both of the hunters looked down at the prostrate form on the floor when Sam groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Killing Joke song.


	9. Breaking Out, Breaking Down

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed and fell onto his knees beside his brother. Bobby moved in closer to the two young men, too stunned to speak.

The eldest Winchester reached out a hand and placed his palm on his brother's chest.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered, "Can you open your eyes for me? C'mon man, you can do it."

The younger man groaned again and Dean smiled eagerly.

Dean jumped back when his brother's eyes snapped open and Sam gasped, struggling to pull himself into a sitting position and scooted away from his older sibling on his backside.

"Hey, hey," Dean held out both hands, palms out in a non-threatening manner, "It's okay Sam, it's just me."

The young man blinked as though he was still groggy from having been knocked out by the angel and wrapped his arms around his middle, shivering.

"D-Dean?" Sam asked; his voice hoarse and so quiet that both men had to strain to hear him.

His brother smiled, "It's so damn good to see you."

Sam shook his head and lowered his gaze to the grungy motel carpet.

"Sammy?" Dean asked and moved closer to his brother, "Hey, Sam, come here."

The young man hesitated, clearly shaken but then he practically flung himself in Dean's direction. Sam grabbed onto his brother's shirt and hung on as if for dear life.

Startled by Sam's reaction, Dean froze for a moment before he wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders, noting how thin they were, and squeezed him back.

"I've got ya, Sammy," Dean murmured thickly, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, "Everything's gonna be alright."

Sam shook his head, "Nuh… No… Y-you shouldn't have come, D-Dean."

Dean frowned and pulled away so that he could speak to his brother easier, "What are you talking about?"

Sam wouldn't look at him; he stared down at the floor as he spoke, his voice cracking from disuse.

"Th-the deal… it's n-not over, Dean… I'm not f-free."

Dean grabbed Sam's upper arms, "Look at me, Sam."

His brother brought his eyes up to his and Dean held back the urge to flinch. Sam's eyes were wet with tears, sunken and bruised-looking. There was a deep, penetrating sadness in his gaze that Dean couldn't bear to look at even for a moment.

"Lilith's gone," Dean assured his brother, forcing himself to keep looking at his brother's face, "The angel got rid of her."

Sam's brow furrowed for a moment, "H-he did?"

Dean smiled as much as he could in the situation, "Yeah, took her out after he dealt with her cronies."

Realization dawned in Sam's eyes and his face crumpled as he broke down. Dean closed his eyes and tried to keep from crying himself as Sam soaked the shoulder of his shirt with tears.

It still seemed so unreal, even though he was sitting with Sam in his arms, that his baby brother could still be alive. Dean felt guilty for believing the demon, for believing his own eyes when he'd seen that mangled corpse lying in the grass. Sam was a fighter. He should have remembered that, should have gone with his gut feeling and known something fishy was going on. Hell, it was kind of obvious wasn't it? After denying Sam's deals for so long, why would Lilith suddenly have a change of heart?

The sound of Bobby clearing his throat brought Dean from his thoughts. He craned his neck to look up at the grizzled hunter.

"We should take a look at 'im," the older man suggested softly, "And then all of us get some rest."

Dean nodded and turned his attention back to his brother. He lifted one hand and carefully drew Sam's bangs away from his face. His brother's eyes were half-closed but he immediately looked away when he noticed Dean scrutinizing him.

The eldest Winchester frowned. It was kind of wigging him out that Sam wouldn't look him in the eye. Deciding that they could talk about it later, Dean moved to stand and brought his brother up with him, holding onto Sam's arms to keep him from falling.

Dean gently guided his brother over to the bed farthest from the door- closest to the bathroom- and sat him down at the edge. He took a moment to assess Sam visually, taking in his dirty, tangled hair, hunched shoulders, downcast expression, and filthy clothes.

"Bobby," Dean addressed the grizzled hunter without taking his eyes off his brother, "Sam's duffel's in the Impala's trunk."

Dean didn't see Bobby's surprised expression as he took his car keys from his pocket and handed them to the older man.

Once the door was closed behind Bobby, Dean went into action. He needed to get Sam out of his soiled clothes.

Standing over his brother, trying not to be intimidating, Dean reached out towards Sam. The younger man cringed away and whimpered.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Dean soothed and Sam looked down, shamefaced.

"M'sorry," he whispered and Dean wondered exactly what had his brother been through the past year.

"I was just going to help you take your shirt off," Dean explained to his brother, thinking that it might help Sam calm down if he knew what he intended to do.

"I… I can d-do it," Sam told Dean quietly and raised shaking hands to unbutton his flannel shirt.

Dean waited patiently, only brushing Sam's hands away when the shaking got so bad his younger sibling fumbled uselessly with the buttons for longer than necessary. The first thing Dean noticed when he saw his brother's bare chest was that Sam had indeed lost a lot of weight. He grimaced in sympathy at the sight of his brother's ribs clearly visible underneath his skin.

Dried blood and grime made it difficult for Dean to see if Sam had any injuries. He carefully helped Sam take his arms out of his sleeves and set the shirt aside.

Sam's pants were easier to remove. Since Sam was so thin, they simply slid down his hips once he'd untied the length of string that had been holding them up.

A friggin' piece of string! Dean fumed; those bastards couldn't give him a belt?! Clearly the demons had not been concerned that Sam would try and kill himself; Dean guessed it was just a way of dehumanizing his brother and stripping him of his dignity.

What else did those fuckers do to you? Dean wanted to ask but once again kept his mouth shut. Now was not the time to ask those sorts of question. Right now Dean had to focus on getting his brother cleaned up and into bed so he could get some much needed rest.

Sam was clearly uncomfortable standing in front of Dean in nothing but his boxer shorts. He had his arms wrapped protectively over his chest, his shoulders hunched forward and his head down, gaze on the motel carpet.

Dean didn't like how much his brother was shaking and decided he didn't trust him to be in the bathroom by himself.

Standing, Dean addressed his brother, "I'm going to run a bath, okay?"

Sam bobbed his head once but didn't say anything.

"Sit down," Dean ordered; keeping his tone gentle and his brother did as he asked. Once Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed again, Dean grabbed the duvet and drew it up to his brother's shoulders.

The motel room door opened as Dean turned towards the bathroom and Bobby stepped inside with a familiar Army-green duffel bag.

Seeing what the eldest Winchester intended, the veteran hunter sat down beside Sam and began taking out the necessary clothing. Cocooned in the blanket, Sam watched Bobby dig through the duffel bag, deciding that a pair of grey jogging pants and an old zip-up hoodie would be most comfortable for the young man.

Dean knelt beside the bathtub, leaving the door open so Sam could see what he was doing. He had a feeling that such consideration would make his brother feel safer and turned on the taps. Making sure the water was at a comfortable temperature; Dean stood and grabbed a couple of towels and wash clothes, putting them within easy reach.

Walking back into the main room, Dean smiled at Bobby and the older man made a face in return. He clearly wasn't happy seeing Sam in such a state either. Dean wondered how bad it would be once they had his brother cleaned up.

"Okay Sammy," Dean stepped in front of his brother, "You ready?"

The younger man nodded and pushed the blanket away with one hand. He stood shakily and Dean steadied him with a hand on one thin shoulder.

"You want some help?" Bobby asked, unsure of what he should do.

Dean shook his head, "I think we'll be okay, right Sam?"

His brother didn't reply. He stared at the floor as they walked the short distance to the bathroom.

Dean wanted to make the situation the least embarrassing for everyone involved so he closed the bathroom door nearly all the way, only leaving it open a crack so Bobby wouldn't have to fiddle with the handle if something went wrong.

Dean heard the television in the main room turn on and the low murmur of a news channel indicated the grizzled hunter was trying to give the brothers as much privacy as possible.

Dean checked the water in the tub and was satisfied with the warmth. Sam had always been shy about Dean seeing him in the nude- something the elder Winchester didn't really understand; Dean had been taking care of Sam since he was six months old and it was nothing he hadn't seen before- so he looked away while Sam took his boxers off.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

"Y-yeah," Sam answered quietly and Dean helped him into the bathtub, pointedly keeping his eyes on his younger sibling's face.

Once he was sitting, Sam drew his knees up to his chest and didn't move. His eyes were closed though and there was the ghost of a smile on his face so Dean decided to take that as a good thing.

"Here Sammy," Dean reached out and touched his brother's shoulder with one of the motel's white washcloths.

The younger man reached up and took the cloth.

"Let me know if you need help," Dean said and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet.

For a few minutes the only sound was the gentle slosh of water but then Dean heard Sam give a frustrated noise. Instantly, he turned his attention to his brother.

The once-white washcloth was now an unpleasant shade of brownish-red. The water in the tub was starting to look skuzzy as well but Sam was still covered in dried blood stains and ground in grime.

The younger man stared up at his brother with confusion in his eyes that nearly made Dean's heart break.

"It's alright Sam," he assured his brother quietly, "Here you go."

Dean handed his brother a clean cloth and Sam eager took it. Dean had to drain the tub twice before the water remained clear. Every scar and mark on Sam's body that was revealed made Dean's blood boil. He wanted to punch something. Hard.

The most recent injuries Sam had acquired, that very morning, were still red and raw- painful looking. Dean prudently asked Bobby to go retrieve the First Aid Kit that was in his duffel and give it to him.

Dean quickly had Sam dressed in the clean clothes the older hunter had picked out so that he wouldn't feel so exposed and vulnerable and accepted the Kit from Bobby.

Having Sam sit down on the toilet lid, Dean expertly wiped at the wounds with antiseptic clothes and covered them with gauze.

Sam had stopped shaking somewhat and leaned tiredly against the counter while Dean worked. The younger man sat with the hoodie unzipped so that his brother could get to the wounds easier and every time Dean looked up and saw the brand on his brother's chest, he felt the lump that had formed in his throat grow larger and larger as if it was trying to choke him.

How could Sam have agreed to something like this? Why? Just to save him?

Dean looked down at his watch and back up to his brother. Sam was clearly exhausted and Dean wanted him to get some rest as soon as possible.

"All done, Sammy," he said as casually as he could manage- as though he was just patching his brother up after a hunt- and Sam zipped the hoodie up.

He followed Dean out into the main room and waited while his older brother pulled the blankets down for him. Climbing into the bed, Sam curled up tightly but didn't close his eyes right away.

"It's alright, Sammy," Dean reassured him, "You're safe."

He turned away from his younger brother and sat down with Bobby at the small motel table. Neither man said anything at first, they were waiting for Sam to fall asleep, and simply dwelt on their own thoughts.

W

Once he was sure Sam wasn't going to hear them, Dean spoke to Bobby in a quiet voice.

"They fucking branded him, Bobby!" Dean hissed, leaning over the table towards the older hunter, hands clenched into fists.

The man's expression darkened, "What the hell did Sam sign up fer, Dean?"

Dean wiped a hand over his face, "Lilith didn't want Sammy dead, I guess. I don't know why. So instead she offered my soul if he would be her slave."

The older hunter's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the news.

"Of all the hare-brained things you two have done, this one takes the cake!" Bobby criticized, shaking his head.

"If I had known what Sam was going to do, I would have locked him in the Impala's trunk and refused to let him out until my contract was up, believe me," Dean told the other hunter sincerely.

Bobby looked towards the sleeping young man, "Poor bugger."

Dean nodded. The scars he had seen painted a grim picture. No wonder Sam had been scared shitless. He had spent an entire year being abused.

"What else, Dean?" Bobby asked, sounding reluctant but certain in his need to know what had been done to his youngest boy.

The eldest Winchester ran a hand through his hair, "They... I… I can't do this right now, Bobby. Sorry."

Dean stood and tried to blink away the tears forming in his eyes. Bobby waited patiently. He didn't say anything, just gave Dean time to pull himself together.

Once the young man was able to continue he sat back down. Dean rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dean described to Bobby in a hushed voice, the evidence of physical abuse he had seen on his brother. Dean told Bobby about the many lashes on Sam's back, clearly from a whip; he told him about the scars that he was sure were burns, and dozens of others that he didn't even want to begin to hypothesize what had caused them.

As Dean spoke, Bobby's lips pursed into a thin, white line and his eyes darkened from their usual warm brown to near-black.

Being unable to kill those sons of bitches himself really pissed Dean off to no end but he guessed it was for the best. He would rather be with his brother instead of becoming obsessed with revenge like their father had been.

Bobby let out a long breath, trying to calm himself down.

"Why don't you get some sleep? I'm not really tired right now," Dean said and although the older man tried to protest, he eventually gave in and settled into the second bed, the one closest to the door.

Dean stood, stretched and grabbed a beer from the room's mini fridge and opened it. He glanced over at his sleeping brother and felt tears prick his eyes.

Sam's here, he told himself fiercely, he's with you and he's safe so don't start crying like a girl.

Grimacing, Dean took a swig of beer and sat back down at the table. He ran both hands through his short-cropped hair and sighed.

What a helluva day, he thought, and glanced at the sleeping form of his brother.

As though he knew, even as he slept, that he was being watched, Sam's brow furrowed and muttered something quietly.

Standing, curious, Dean approached Sam until he was just close enough to hear what his brother was saying.

The eldest Winchester waited only a moment before his brother spoke again.

"D'n… D'n…" the sleeping young man muttered and before Dean could stop himself, he reached out and brushed his brother's bangs away from his forehead.

"I'm right here, Sammy," he whispered, "I'm here. I'm not going to leave you again. I promise."

What was meant to be a private moment- that Dean would never tell anyone about- turned sour when Sam opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused and let out a whimper of fear, pushing himself away from the perceived threat.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed and grabbed his brother's arm to keep him from falling off the bed, "It's just me!"

The sound startled Bobby and the grizzled hunter sat up drowsily.

Sam tried ineffectively to pull himself out of his brother's grasp and started shaking, his eyes downcast and filling with tears of fear.

"It's alright, Sammy," Dean soothed, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Dean climbed onto the bed and pulled his brother into a careful hug. Sam froze as though he didn't know what to do but then he grabbed onto Dean's shirt and clung as tightly as possible to him. Dean realized his brother was inching closer and closer to him and he tightened his grip on Sam.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he whispered, partly for startling his brother awake and partly for all that had happened to him in the past year, "I'm so sorry."

Bobby, acting as though the display of affection was quite normal, stood and shuffled his way into the bathroom.

Once his brother had calmed down again, Dean glanced up at Bobby who had taken a seat at the room's small table, a day-old newspaper in front of him. He knew the older hunter was leaving the second bed free for him to use. Shifting, preparing to get up, Dean stopped when Sam refused to let him go.

"No Dean," his brother said quietly, not even looking at him, "Please stay."

The bed was certainly not big enough for two fully grown men but Dean could have cared less. He smiled sadly at his brother as Sam curled up once more, scrunching up as small as possible. Dean shifted to the edge of the bed, trying to give his brother as much room as he could. Staring up at the ceiling, Dean tried to recall the last time they had slept in the same bed. It had to have been a long time ago, when both he and Sam were kids, much smaller and less self-conscious than they were now.

Dean startled when he felt the bed move; Sam rolling over closer to him so that his back pressed against his older brother's side. The eldest Winchester swallowed the lump in his throat and draped a protective arm over his brother.

A rustle of paper drew Dean's attention across the room to Bobby. The grizzled hunter was looking at the brothers, a smile on his weathered features.

"You take any pictures and I'll kick your ass, old man," Dean whispered threateningly.

Bobby chuckled softly before standing and making his way back to the other bed, turning off the overhead light as he did so. Dean felt his brother tense for a moment before relaxing again. After a few minutes of lying in the darkness, the pull of sleep became irresistible and Dean closed his eyes, happy for the first time in what seemed like a very, very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Bullet For My Valentine song.


	10. Broken

Dean startled awake at the sound of the motel room's door closing. He sat up and saw Bobby step inside with a brown paper bag and a drink tray.

"Hey," the gruff hunter whispered quietly and set his purchases down on the table.

Dean wiped a hand across his face and glanced at the bedside clock, seeing that it was nine-thirty in the morning.

He peered down at his brother. Sam was lying close to him, curled up, sleeping peacefully. Dean smiled and got out of bed as carefully as possible so he wouldn't wake his sibling. He paused to pull the blankets up to Sam's shoulders before walking over to the table to see what Bobby had bought.

He thanked the grizzled hunter when Bobby handed him a paper cup of coffee and dug around in the bag for a moment before pulling out a Styrofoam container.

Dean opened the container to find two fried eggs, a piece of toast and six pieces of bacon inside.

The younger man's stomach growled loudly and Dean remembered he had only eaten breakfast the day before, missing lunch because he was too busy drinking and completely forgetting about dinner while he looked after Sam.

Dean looked at Bobby when the older man handed him a Styrofoam bowl with a plastic lid.

"It's oatmeal," Bobby told him quietly, "I doubt Sam got three meals a day and I figured this would be the easiest on his stomach."

Ignoring his own food, Dean took the offered bowl and plastic spoon, "Thanks Bobby."

Although he would have liked to let his brother sleep some more, Dean wanted to get some food into Sam as soon as possible and then get out of town. Bobby needed to get back to South Dakota and Dean knew that he and Sam would be going with him.

Walking over to Sam's side of the bed, Dean crouched down and laid a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Sammy?" His brother's eyes opened almost immediately and Sam cringed away from him fearfully.

"Hey, it's just me," Dean tried to calm his brother, "Bobby brought you breakfast."

Dean's eyebrows rose in confusion when Sam's face turned green.

"Sam? Sammy, look," Dean popped the lid off the Styrofoam container and lifted it so Sam could see what was in it, "Oatmeal."

"Oh," Sam whispered, his gaze dropping and embarrassment crossing his features, "S-s-sorry."

Dean squeezed his brother's shoulder comfortingly and held out the bowl and plastic spoon. Sam sat up, hunching over as he did so and took the Styrofoam container and spoon.

Dean watched as his brother tentatively scooped up some of the breakfast cereal and brought it to his mouth.

Sam took a small bite, chewing as though he was afraid Dean would give him something awful to eat. Dean couldn't help but smile when Sam dug the plastic spoon into the bowl of oatmeal and scooped up a generous portion, eating the cereal as though it wasn't just plain porridge but the most delicious food ever tasted.

"Whoa! Hold on Sammy!" Dean exclaimed when Sam began wolfing down the food, far too fast for his older brother's liking.

The younger Winchester stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth, a look of fear crossing his features.

"You don't have to stop eating, Sammy," Dean said quickly, "Just eat slower. I don't want you to choke, okay?"

Sam lowered his gaze as if Dean had yelled at him and nodded, stirring the spoon around in the oatmeal before taking up a very small amount on the tip of the utensil.

Dean opened his mouth to tell Sam he didn't have to eat like that but then he closed it again. Peering over his shoulder at Bobby, Dean gave the grizzled hunter a 'what am I supposed to do?' look.

"Eat your breakfast before it gets cold," the older hunter said with a shrug.

Standing, Dean went to the table and grabbed the Styrofoam container with his own breakfast inside and began munching away. Dean though, hardly tasted what he ate.

He would feel better once they were at Bobby's. He hoped that the familiar salvage yard would help Sam relax.

At least he's safe, Dean thought, that's all that matters now.

W

Once Sam was finished eating, Dean checked the wounds he'd bandaged up the night before, cleaning them again and covering them with fresh gauze.

Sam sat rigid as Dean worked, trying to be as gentle as possible. He still wouldn't meet his older brother's eyes and that hurt. Dean had never known Sam to be so meek and skittish. He knew it was a result of whatever that bitch Lilith had put him through during the past year and hoped that Sam would soon be back to his pain-in-the-ass self.

Dean tried to talk to Sam, chattering on about nothing in particular, trying to be upbeat and positive.

Bobby packed the brothers' things into the trunk of the Impala as Dean tended to Sam, giving them some privacy.

"You boys ready?" the grizzled hunter poked his head into the motel room just as Dean finished patching up the last of the wounds.

Dean nodded and Sam followed along behind him silently, dressed in a comfortable clothing- a pair dark blue sweat pants and a grey pullover sweater- staring at his feet instead of straight ahead.

Dean smiled when he saw that Bobby had taken the three 'emergency' blankets from the Impala's trunk and spread them out on the backseat, making a sort of nest.

Sam climbed into the backseat of the car and Dean closed the door. Sam took up one of the blankets- a red woolen one- and wrapped it around himself.

Bobby sat up front in shotgun while Dean took the driver's seat. After a quick stop at the motel office to check out, the three were on their way to Sioux Falls.

Dean had thought his brother would curl up in the back and sleep but Sam stared out the passenger window, raptly.

Bobby caught Dean watching Sam in the rearview mirror and gave a small smile through his ruddy beard.

SPN

"Lilith will never allow either of the Winchesters become the Righteous Man," Castiel told Uriel, "She will not take Dean's soul and if Sam dies he will be tortured for an eternity in the Pit."

The archangel passed the snow-topped mountain peak, his face dark with displeasure.

Castiel tilted his head, "Could not another human be used-"

"No!" Uriel snapped at the lesser angel, "It must be one of the Winchesters."

They were truly at a stalemate then. Lilith was doing everything in her power to prevent the Apocalypse (and her own demise).

The archangel suddenly paused, a look of cunning dawning on his dark features.

"Uriel? What is it?" Castiel asked.

"There is another Winchester," the archangel said, smiling widely.

Castiel's eyes widened. Surely that would not work. Dean and Sam were meant to start Armageddon and release Lucifer. Not the boy.

"Adam Milligan will be the Righteous Man," the archangel announced.

"You cannot-" Castiel began to argue but was interrupted by Uriel.

"Your task is complete, Castiel," the archangel said arrogantly, "Return to your post."

The lesser angel opened his mouth to speak again but thought better of it. This was not right. Adam Milligan was not meant to be a part of this.

SPN

Dean smiled in relief as he drove past the sign welcoming them to Sioux Falls. It had been a long day but they had finally arrived.

Bobby was snoozing in the passenger's seat, his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes as he snored quietly.

Sam was awake. He had fallen asleep two hours after they had started out, only to wake up again with a confused and startled expression on his face- most likely from a nightmare- before realizing that he was safe in the Impala and stared hungrily out the windows as trying to take in all the sights he had missed during the past year.

Classic rock and roll played from the speakers. Dean hadn't been able to ride for long without music and had finally given into temptation. He had been about to change the station to something more soothing- maybe Bach or Beethoven or Mozart- when Sam had shaken his head, letting Dean know he wanted it left on, Quiet Riot singing about metal health.

Sam's expression had turned nostalgic as he listened to the music and Dean had to swallow the lump in his throat.

They had eaten take-out lunches, Bobby suggesting that they eat as they drove. Dean knew it was more than a sense of urgency to get back to Sioux Falls but the uncertainty of brining Sam into a public place. The young man still wouldn't hold his brother (or Bobby's) gaze for any length of time and spoke in monosyllables when he did talk at all. Besides that, it was clear from Sam's physical appearance that something bad had happened to him. Although his face was mostly obscured by his shaggy bangs, his clothes were clearly too big for him and moved from periods of fidgeting to sitting as still as stone in the backseat.

No, it was best if they didn't eat in restaurants for a while.

As they entered the city limits, Dean reached across the seat and shook Bobby's shoulder.

"Hey old man," he said, "We're home."

Bobby grunted awake, looked around for a moment before pushing his baseball cap up and stretching in the confines of the front seat.

Peering around the back of the seat, Bobby glanced at Sam who was staring out the side window at the houses they were passing.

SPN

Castiel smiled at the newborn infants wrapped securely in their blue and pink blankets, their names displayed at the ends of their incubators. The tiny creatures looked so fragile and vulnerable.

The angel thought about the archangel's plan to have Adam Milligan- Sam and Dean's half-brother- become the Righteous Man destiny demanded.

The boy knew nothing of the supernatural, knew nothing of angels or demons and yet Uriel had no qualms about destroying the young man's life.

Castiel recalled Lilith's plan of preventing Sam from taking on the role of the Righteous Man- her promise that he would never shed blood in Hell- and knew that it would be the same for Adam. If Lilith found out what Uriel was planning, she would stop the young man from breaking the first Seal as well.

Adam Milligan will have died for nothing.

Castiel could not allow an innocent human to suffer for mistakes that were not his own.

But what could he do? He was forbidden from interfering with humans.

Perhaps Uriel would realize his plan was folly. Perhaps a different substitute would be found; good men and women sold their souls routinely for more than just wealth and fame. A certain few paid the ultimate price for the lives of loved ones. Maybe one of them could break the first Seal, despite what Uriel claimed.

SPN

Dean sat down on Bobby's old, brown couch with a sigh. It was good to be back at the salvage yard after avoiding it for so long. The young hunter felt guilty for not seeing Bobby enough during the year he'd thought Sam had been dead but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to visit the grizzled hunter.

Noticing that Sam was standing in the doorway, Dean sat up and beckoned him into the room.

"C'mon over Sam," he encouraged, "You don't have to stand there."

His brother shuffled slowly into the room, clearly nervous. Dean's heart went out to his brother and he wished there was a way for him to help Sam realize that he didn't have to be afraid anymore.

Sam sat down cautiously on the edge of the couch, as far away from Dean as possible, looking ready to scramble up at a moment's notice.

"You remember this place, yeah?" Dean asked and his brother nodded.

Bobby entered the room with some drinks and Sam shot up from the couch as though the cushion had been electrified, a look of panic on his drawn features.

Realizing what he'd done, Sam lowered his head, "S-sorry."

"Don't apologize, son," Bobby said gently, "It ain't yer fault."

Sam sat back down, still not looking at all comfortable.

"Are you okay? Are you hurting?" Dean asked, thinking that his brother might be in pain.

Sam shook his head a little too quickly but Dean didn't argue with him. He didn't want to scare his brother.

Bobby handed the eldest Winchester a can of beer and held out a glass of milk towards Sam.

The young man took the offered beverage but didn't drink it. Dean gulped down his beer faster than he normally would. The silence was killing him.

Setting the empty can of beer aside, Dean grabbed the television remote and hit the ON button. The blank TV screen suddenly showed a grim-faced news anchor reporting the usual doom and gloom of the day; Dean changed the channel.

Surfing around for a few minutes, Dean found something that his brother would enjoy- a documentary about tropic fish in the Great Barrier Reef- and sat back, glancing at Bobby from the corner of his eye.

Maybe Dean could start getting Sam to open up if he actually had something to talk about instead of coming right out and asking his brother what had happened to him the past year he'd been Lilith's slave. Sam, though usually more willing to share his feelings than Dean, was shy and after what he had endured, had withdrawn even more so. Dean thought that the best way of getting his brother to talk was to ease him into it. Although the last thing Dean wanted was to know everything his brother had suffered, he knew that talking would help his brother, as it usually had in the past if something was troubling Sam.

But this was completely different. When he had been younger Sam would confide in his brother his desire to go to the movies with friends after he'd been forbidden from doing so by his father or stress over a particularly difficult test or- much to Sam's chagrin- ask Dean for advice about girls. No, this wasn't going to be like any of those times before. Dean wished he didn't have to know but something told him it was the only way to help his brother get better.

Dean startled when Bobby nudged him, the older hunter standing beside the couch, and turned his gaze to where the grizzled man was looking.

Sam was leaning forward on the couch, clearly watching the television screen through his bangs, still not completely relaxed- he looked tensed to jump and cower at the slighted provocation- but was soaking in every sight and sound.

Dean smiled, feeling ridiculously happy despite everything that had happened in the past year.

"You want another beer?" Bobby whispered so as not to disturb Sam and Dean nodded.

He's going to be okay, Dean thought as he watched his brother; everything's going to be alright now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Lifehouse song.


	11. Make It All Okay

Bobby couldn't help but smile- albeit sadly- as Dean slowly inched his way across the couch, closer and closer to his brother. Apparently the older brother couldn't force himself to give his sibling space even thought it was only the length of Bobby's ratty, brown sofa.

Sam's gaze left the television and and turned to Dean. Bobby held his breath, not knowing what was going to happen. Instead of cowering away from Dean, Sam reached out his hand until he had his palm resting against his older brother's chest. Dean paused, not sure if Sam was telling him to stop but then Sam's hand fisted in his shirt, pulling the older sibling forward.

Dean didn't resist. He scooted forward until he was sitting right beside his brother, their legs touching and Sam curled up against his chest like a little boy, his shaggy head tucked under Dean's chin.

Bobby sighed in relief. He was glad to see Sam taking comfort from his brother. The boy had been so distant the night before at the motel that Bobby had feared it would be a while before Sam allowed either himself or Dean that amount of physical contact.

The grizzled hunter turned back into the kitchen when he heard Dean's voice whispering muffled words to his brother, soothing the younger boy.

SPN

Castiel paced through the waist-heigh grass of the Serengeti, sharing the plain with herds of wildebeest, zebras and gazelles thousands strong. The sun hovered massive and orange on the horizon.

The angel did not know what to do about Adam Milligan.

If the boy's identity could be hidden from Lilith than perhaps all was not lost. If Adam Milligan could be persuaded to sell his soul then he would become the Righteous Man the Apocalypse required.

That was only if the demon queen was kept in the dark about Adam Milligan's origins.

Castiel knew that Lilith was cunning. If she even felt like she was being deceived, she would prevent Adam from spilling blood in Hell. The boy would be tortured for eternity for nothing.

Raphael did not know what he was doing. He knew that Lilith would not easily be tricked and yet he was willing to destroy an innocent human's life for an plan of action that may or may not come to fruition.

Castiel was in a difficult situation. He did not want to see an innocent young man come to harm but he also was loath to go against an angel of superior rank. Raphael did not care for the human race as Castiel did, he saw them as pawns to be moved around in order to achieve his goals. The dark-haired angel though, had seen first hand that humans were not puppets and could easily change the course of their own destiny. Sam Winchester, fated from birth to release the fallen angel Lucifer, had not followed the path Heaven had set out for him. The young man had used his God-given gift of freewill to save his brother from damnation and bring the Apocalypse to a grinding halt even before it was begun. Mankind never ceased to amaze Castiel. Oftentimes he would find himself believing that he had his Father's final creations figured out only to be proven wrong.

The angel glanced up at the darkening sky and sighed. Everything would be so much easier if Sam Winchester had not made that demon deal.

SPN

Dean was afraid to move. Sam seemed to be content, calm- at least for the moment- and the older brother did not want to disturb his sibling. Sam's head was resting against Dean's chest while his hands remained fisted- loosely- in his shirt.

Sam's breathing was slow and shallow. He was sleeping.

The young man looked up when Bobby came into the living room and stopped by the side of the couch, smiling down at the brothers.

"How's 'e doing?"

Dean managed to shrug without jostling Sam, "He's getting some rest."

Bobby nodded, eyeing the youngest Winchester sadly.

"I've got a car I'm gonna work on," he told Dean- somewhat reluctantly- and tugged at his baseball cap, "If you need anything, just give me a holler."

Dean nodded, "Will do."

"An' make sure Sam gets something to eat when he wakes up," Bobby added, gazing at the young man's pale, thin face.

Again, Dean told Bobby he would do as he asked. Bobby didn't doubt that the older brother would listen to him. Dean would take care of Sam.

The eldest Winchester watched the veteran hunter walk out the front door without looking back. Even though he knew Bobby would only be in the garage at the side of the house, Dean felt as though the other man was abandoning him- which was ridiculous- and sighed. He raised a hand and ran his fingers through his brother's unwashed hair. Sam made a soft whimper and nuzzled his face against Dean's chest.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured, his voice barely audible, "I'm right here."

SPN

Bobby stepped inside once it started getting dark. He had fiddled around with a local's restored Thunderbird for a few hours before realizing that he needed a new part for the car and decided it could wait another a greasy hand across his brow and turned to where Dean was still sitting on the couch.

Both brothers were awake. Dean had Sam cradled on his lap, his younger brother's hands fisted in his shirt. The older Winchester had his head bent down and was whispering to Sam.

As Bobby walked further into the den, Dean glanced up and mouthed the word 'nightmare'. Bobby nodded and glanced sympathetically at the youngest Winchester; his face was damp with tear-tracks and his eyes were red.

Deciding it best to give the brothers some privacy, Bobby made his way into the kitchen to get himself cleaned up before seeing to dinner.

Turning on the hot-water tap, Bobby washed his hands quickly, his thoughts focused on the brothers in the other room.

Sam had been through Hell this past year and he was terribly fragile right now. Bobby knew Dean would look after his brother, protect him, coax him out of this shell Sam had around him. Bobby hoped that both brothers would be able to heal from the events of the last twelve months. Bobby knew he himself was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sam was still alive and that there really were angels out there- a realization that had taken a backseat to the youngest Winchester's miraculous reappearance- and would help both Winchesters as much as he could to clear this latest obstacle.

Wiping his hands on the tea towel hanging from the oven handle, Bobby blinked his eyes as they suddenly stung with unshed tears and he quickly blotted them with the towel before heading to the living room.

Dean looked up once again when he saw Bobby. The veteran hunter paused, Sam hadn't moved, he still lay curled up against his brother.

"I can make up some soup for supper if you want," Bobby said quietly and Dean nodded, "That'd be great."

Bobby watched as the eldest Winchester ran a hand through his brother's hair for a moment before turning back into the kitchen.

SPN

After Bobby and the brothers had eaten, Dean led Sam into the first-floor bathroom, wanting to check his injuries again- make sure they were not getting infected- and wash the younger man's hair, something that had been neglected the night before.

Now that Sam was fairly calm and relaxed around him, Dean hoped that his brother would talk, maybe even lift his head up enough to make eye-contact. Dean knew he had to be patient though, things weren't going to change overnight. He would take baby-steps if that was what Sam needed.

Sam sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, head down and hands in his lap. Dean had brought along a clean pair of clothes with him, and sat them on the counter. He crouched down in front of his brother now so he wasn't towering over Sam and spoke gently.

"Do you need help getting your sweater off?"

Sam nodded his head but said nothing. Dean helped pull the hoodie up over his brother's head, recalling the time when it actually fit Sam and his brother wasn't swimming in it. Dean checked the wounds and was satisfied that they were healing nicely. Sam undressed while Dean ran water into the tub. After helping Sam into the bathtub, Dean waited patiently, flicking through a magazine from the collection beside the toilet.

Once Sam was finished, Dean turned to him, "Sammy, can I help you wash your hair?"

The younger man only hesitated a moment before he nodded. Dean had found a green plastic pail- a child's toy, probably from when the brothers had been young- that Bobby had kept and stowed away in case it was ever needed.

Dean filled the pail with warm water from the bathtub's tap and told Sam to lean his head forward and close his eyes. Dean didn't think Sam would want to have his head submerged underwater so doing it like this suited Dean fine. It kind of reminded him of the times he'd do this for his brother when Sam had been a toddler.

Dean continued to talk as he worked, letting Sam know exactly what he was doing. Dean knew that although Sam trusted him, he was still scared and didn't blame him at all.

As Dean lifted the pail to rinse the soap from Sam's hair, he couldn't help but smile when he saw the corner's of Sam's mouth were curled up- not really in a smile, but almost- and guessed it must feel pretty damn good to have clean hair for the first time in a year.

The things people take for granted, Dean mused as he assisted Sam getting out of the tub and handed him a warm, fluffy towel.

"Feel better?" Dean asked; Sam nodded without looking at him.

Sam dressed slowly- Dean could see him starting to tire- but the older brother didn't rush him. Once Sam was presentable, Dean opened the bathroom door and walked out into the short, narrow hallway that led to the living room.

The young man followed his brother as Dean walked out into the den.

"Why don't you sit on the couch?" Dean suggested, "I'll be back in a minute."

Sam didn't respond but made his way over to the piece of furniture and sank onto the cushions. Dean shared a glance with Bobby who was in the kitchen doing the dishes and nodded his head in the direction of the staircase.

Bobby gave him a thumbs up and Dean took the stairs, heading to the guest bedroom he and Sam usually shared when they stayed here, where the laundry hamper was.

While he was upstairs, the eldest Winchester changed into some more comfortable clothes as well and made his way back down to see Sam sitting exactly as he had been left.

Dean settled in beside his brother. Sam's damp bangs stuck to his brow, nearly obscuring his eyes. The young man listed to the side until his cheek rested against Dean's shoulder; Sam pulled his feet up onto the couch cushions and grabbed his brother's shirt with one hand.

Bobby smiled as he made his way into the living room, handing Dean a bottle of beer.

Sam didn't move. His eyes were closed; he was sleeping.

Carefully, Dean reached up a hand and carded his fingers through Sam's damp locks, untangling them as he did so.

Bobby took a seat on one of the two faded, flower-print chairs- his Karen just had to have them- and nursed his own beer.

"He's starting to look like the old Sam again," the grizzled hunter whispered and Dean smiled slightly.

The older brother felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, he hoped that Sam would soon be acting like his old self as well as looking like it. He didn't say it though, knowing that it would likely take a while for his brother to full become himself again.

But Dean could be patient when he had to be. Especially when it came to Sammy. For Sam, Dean had all the time in the world.

SPN

Nineteen-year old Adam Jacob Milligan was unaware of being watched. He was just glad to have a few months holidays. It was early May and finals were over. It felt good to be back home. He had missed his Mom.

Not that Adam saw her very often, even when he was home. She often worked the night-shift (and as much overtime as they would give her) at the hospital- the ones the other nurses didn't particularly like- so she slept most of the day.

Most kids Adam's age couldn't wait to get out on their own, become independent and constantly complained about their parents, but not him. His Mom was the best, in his opinion. She had worked extremely hard to save up enough to help him pay for university- not an easy feat for a single parent- and Adam respected her and loved her all the more for her sacrifices.

He had tried to contact his father the day he'd received his acceptance to Wisconsin State University but the number he had was no longer in service. Adam had tried not to feel too bad about that, he was sure his Dad was proud of him. Besides, he was used to John Winchester's long absences and lack of communication. Adam was sure his father would show up sometime, wanting to catch up on all he'd missed.

W

"Mom! I'm going out, do you need anything?" Adam called, staring into the refrigerator.

"Can you pick up some bread and milk on your way home?"

"Sure," he closed the door and walked to where Kate Milligan stood in the kitchen doorway, her old soft housecoat wrapped around her shoulders.

She looks tired, Adam thought as he gave his mother a peck on the cheek.

"Don't stay out too late," Kate advised and Adam rolled his eyes comically, "Okay, Mom."

"I mean it," she pressed, smiling, and waved goodbye to Adam as he made his way to the front of the house.

Adam was looking forward to spending some time with his friends. They had suggested going out for pizza and then catching a movie at the local theatre. As the young man strolled down the sidewalk, waving to his neighbours, he didn't feel the blue eyes of a trench-coat wearing angel on him.

SPN

Castiel watched the Milligan boy with interest. He knew he should not be there but he could not help it. This boy could be in danger. Raphael had plans for him. The archangel seemed to believe that this boy, who shared Winchester blood, was the key to starting the Apocalypse.

The angel watched as Adam met up with his friends, grinning and laughing, joking about something Castiel did not understand. One of Adam's friends put his arm over the young man's shoulders, shaking him playfully.

Castiel tilted his head, trying to imagine this young human breaking the first Seal in Hell. He could not do so. He was ignorant of what was really out there- as the majority of humans were- and seemed the most unlikely candidate for Raphael's plan, despite his lineage.

But who was he to argue with the archangel?

SPN

"D'n," Sam whispered, barely audible and shook his brother's shoulder.

"Huh? What? Sammy," Dean muttered tiredly and sat up straighter on the couch, "Are you okay?"

Sam looked down and let out an unintelligible whimper.

He felt Dean's strong arms wrap around him and melted into the embrace.

"It's okay, Sammy," his brother told him, "I'm here. I'm not letting anything bad happen to you."

Sam's heartbeat- sped up from fear and adrenaline- slowed down and he sighed, leaning his head against Dean's chest.

He had missed Dean so much the past year; the knowledge that he would never see his brother again the most painful thing about the deal. Sam hadn't been allowed to say goodbye; the last time he had seen Dean, he had been lounging on his motel bed, one hand resting on his knee as he channel surfed. Dean had barely even glanced at him before he'd walked out the door.

Sam gave a shuddering sigh and buried his face against Dean's chest, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Sam?" Dean whispered, "What's wrong? Hey, c'mon, its alright."

Sam shook his head and tried to control himself. Dean's grip tightened and he began carding his fingers through Sam's hair comfortingly.

Sam was glad Dean didn't say anything. He closed his eyes and told himself that he was safe now, that Dean would protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an R.E.M. song.


	12. Nothing's Free

Dean was awake the instant he heard Sam cry out in his sleep. Flinging the blankets away, the eldest Winchester reached out and turned on the lamp that sat on dresser in-between the two beds. Sam was writhing in his sheets, the fabric twisted around him.

Dean moved fluidly to his brother's side and put his hands on either side of Sam's face.

"Shhh," Dean murmured, "It's okay, Sammy, shhh. It's just a dream."

Slowly Sam calmed and he opened his eyes. Dean smiled and wiped at the dampness on his brother's cheeks.

Sam's gaze flicked up to Dean quickly before lowering. Dean brushed his sibling's bangs away from his forehead.

Sam let out a shaky breath and sat up, slumping a little bit. Dean let go of Sam's face and squeezed his shoulder with one hand.

"You okay now?"

Sam nodded his head once, wrapping his arms around his middle.

Dean bit his lip, wanting to ask Sam what he'd been dreaming about but he stopped himself. Sam wasn't ready to talk. He didn't want to push his brother into doing something he was uncomfortable with.

"Do you want me to keep the light on?" Dean asked instead.

Again, Sam bobbed his head and Dean stood up, going back to his own bed and laying down.

Dean closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Sam's breathing for a while until he drifted back to sleep.

W

Dean stared at the ceiling for a long time before he sat up.

He glanced to where Sam lay curled up in the bed beside his and smiled sadly. It had been so hard to wake up in a year's worth of motel rooms alone. But Sam was alive, back with him and nothing was going to change that.

Standing, Dean stretched and padded over to his sleeping brother. He carefully pulled Sam's blanket up to his shoulders, tucking him in. Sam's brow furrowed and he drew his limbs in tighter but he did not wake.

Dressing quickly, Dean made his way downstairs, greeting Bobby as he caught sight of the older man sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper.

The eldest Winchester poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned with his back against the counter as he sipped at the steaming drink.

"Do you remember that club house you helped Sam and I make when we were kids?"

The newspaper rustled as Bobby set it down and looked at the young man as though he had just grown a second head.

"Yeah," he said, uncertainty clear in his tone, "Yer Daddy left you boys with me for damn near a month. I had to do something to keep y'all entertained."

"Do you know if its still there?"

Bobby's suspicious expression on increased, "Why the sudden interest in that old thing?"

Dean shrugged, "Just curious."

Bobby didn't look convinced, "Dean."

Bringing his coffee with him, Dean sat down at the table across from his friend.

"I want to take Sam back there."

"Why? What are you thinking?" Bobby asked, the newspaper completely forgotten.

Dean bit his lip, trying to decide if he should tell Bobby his plan or if he should lie.

"Sam's not talking-"

"He's been here two days, son!" Bobby reminded him, "That ain't gonna erase a year of whatever those demons did to him."

"I know that!" Dean almost snapped, "But… you know Sammy, he always has something to say. Can't keep his mouth shut most of the time."

"Look," he sighed, "I'm not expecting any miracles… I just want Sam to feel like he has somewhere private so that if he wants to talk he can. Whenever he wants to. I'm not going to go and interrogate him or anything, Bobby."

"This place ain't good enough?" Bobby asked, sounding hurt and Dean regretting telling him anything.

The younger man could only look at the grizzled hunter apologetically.

"No one knows about the clubhouse," Dean said after a long pause, "Just you, me and Sam. And half the time it was only the two of us out there."

Bobby grunted his acknowledgement.

"Besides," Dean continued, "Some fresh air would do Sam a world of good."

"Yer right," Bobby said, "Yeah, its still there, last I checked anyway. Might need some fixing up by now though."

Dean smiled and raised his coffee cup, saluting the other man, "Thanks Bobby."

SPN

Lilith was biding her time.

She knew it wouldn't be long until she was once again free to roam the Earth.

All she had to do was be patient.

That stupid angel should have killed her.

But he wouldn't; they still believed they could coerce her into becoming the final Seal.

Lilith laughed. That was never going to happen.

Neither Winchester was a part of the plan to end the world anymore.

And speaking of the Winchesters…

Once Lilith was Topside again she'd get Sam back.

She hadn't forgotten about the boy or their deal.

Lilith would make sure Sam never forgot, either.

Smiling to herself, the demon queen began to imagine all the things she would do to the young man once he was back under her control.

Yes, she would be patient and wait and once she was Topside again, she'd have some real fun.

SPN

Dean wondered if he had packed enough as he set the last can of soda into Bobby's battered Coors Light cooler pack

"You feeding an army there son?" Bobby asked as he peeked at the cooler's contents.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, "Sam can't live on oatmeal and soup forever. I made some sandwiches."

Bobby nodded, "Just go easy on him. He probably won't be able to eat a whole lot just yet."

"Okay," Dean said and peered into the living room where Sam was sitting on the couch, watching the television.

Grabbing the pack and sliding its single blue strap over his shoulder, Dean entered the room.

"Hey Sammy," he said, making his brother jump, "Wanna go for a walk?"

Sam tore his gaze away from the TV screen to stare at a spot on the carpet in front of his feet and didn't respond.

Dean stepped further into the room, trying not to frown.

"Sammy," he sat down on the couch beside his sibling, "You okay?"

Sam nodded once without looking up. He wrapped his hands together, wringing them nervously.

Dean sighed and reached out, gripping his brother's fingers in his own, stopping their anxious movement.

"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, okay? That's not what I want," Dean told his brother earnestly, hoping Sam would believe him.

Sam lifted his head, his green eyes grazing Dean's face for a moment before lowering again.

"So, you wanna come with me? Just for a little bit?"

Sam stood and Dean beamed with relief. He led the way out into the front yard of Singer Salvage. The weather was perfect; sunny but not too hot.

Dean peered over his shoulder to see if Sam is following, and he was, almost scurrying, as though he was afraid of the outside world or something and Dean wanted to stop, forget about his stupid plan and take Sam back inside.

No, Dean shook his head, Sam needs this. Even if it's only to get out of the house, he needs this.

The older brother walked around the side of the house, past the garage and out into the backyard full of sparse, parched grass and a dilapidated picnic table that hasn't been used in years.

Across the yard was the wooded area that the Winchesters used to play and train in when they were younger. Even now, Dean could easily spot the glint of broken beer bottle shards peeking up through the undergrowth.

There used to be a path through the copse of trees but it is long gone; Dean held out a hand to help his brother step over a fallen trunk, Sam keeping his eyes glued to the ground.

The brothers walked for about ten minutes before the old clubhouse came into view. Dean smiled nostalgically at the sight. The small building's walls were made of treated plywood, its roof a sheet of rusted tin, the doorway covered with an old plastic tarp.

It doesn't look too bad, Dean thought as he approached it; nah, not bad at all.

He pushed the tarp aside, checking to make sure no critters had decided to call the clubhouse 'home' before motioning for Sam to join him.

The air inside the small building was stuffy and smelt of mud and decaying leaves but it wasn't wholly unpleasant. The older brother peered down at the dirt floor and momentarily regretted not brining a blanket along.

Oh well, a little dirt never hurt anyone.

Sitting down, Dean leaned against one wall of the clubhouse and sighed, his gaze going to the words and pictures that had been carved into the plywood with pocket knives.

Sam crouched down, not really sitting and stared at the floor.

"Do you remember how much you begged to have a tree-house because you'd seen it in some movie?" Dean asked, "I said no. I didn't want you climbing up that high. I was afraid you'd fall and get hurt."

Sam didn't say anything.

"Then Bobby had the idea for the club house," Dean continued, "You thought that was even cooler than a tree-house."

He smiled at the memory and looked up at his brother but Sam remained focused on the floor.

"You said that the club house was ours, only for Winchesters," Dean reminded his brother, "And Bobby, of course. You even insisted on having a ceremony to make him an honorary Winchester."

Dean clearly recalled the grizzled hunter dressed up in the ceremonial housecoat and old party had Sam had found somewhere, one hand over his heart as he repeated the pledge of loyalty the boys had thought of on the spot.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, a part of him wondering why they were even out in the woods like this.

He looked up when he heard Sam moving and saw his brother sit down on the ground, legs crossed and eyes raised to look at the marks they had left behind during their childhood in this place just for them.

W

Dean's stomach grumbled and he eagerly unzipped the cooler pack.

Sam watched him silently from the other side of the clubhouse as he took out a couple of plates, napkins, two cans of root beer and two sandwiches.

"Come on, Sam," Dean encouraged, taking his own plate but not eating.

His brother moved forward and picked up his plate, staring intently at the sandwich sitting on it.

"Bobby didn't have any bananas but I thought peanut butter and jelly would be okay too," Dean told him amicably.

He expected Sam to nod or maybe even look up at him quickly before glancing away again but he didn't expect Sam to drop the plate as though he'd burnt his hand.

"Sam!" Dean startled and stood up quickly, concerned that his brother was injured.

Sam backed away from the plate, a look of fear on his face.

"Sammy, what is it?" Dean asked and stepped over the mess towards his sibling, "Are you hurt?"

The younger man shook his head and crouched down, his legs folding beneath him, hands held up in an unconscious defensive position.

"No," Dean murmured, "It's okay, I'm not mad. It's just a stupid plate. C'mon, stand up, man."

He held a hand out to his brother, "Sam? What's wrong?"

The younger man whispered something too quiet for Dean to hear and he leaned closer, "What?"

"I- I'm s-sorry, Muh- Dean," Sam said a little louder, flinching fearfully.

"Don't worry about it, Sammy," Dean said softly, "You wanna go back to the house?"

The younger man nodded and wiped the back of his hand across his nose, standing up unsteadily.

Dean gathered up the unbroken plate, the two soda cans and his uneaten sandwich, packing them haphazardly into the cooler. He kicked the sandwich that had landed on the ground, out the door for whatever animals wanted it; there were mostly squirrels and chipmunks here anyway.

The brothers walked back to the house slowly, Dean trying to find a way to ask Sam what had frightened him so.

Once inside again, Dean set the cooler on the counter in the kitchen once Sam was sitting in one of the old wing back chairs in the living room.

Bobby walked into the kitchen, a slightly confused expression on his face, "Yer back early, there any reason why?"

Quickly, Dean explained Sam's reaction upon being handed his lunch and Bobby's eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"He alright?" the veteran hunter asked.

Dean shrugged, "If he's not he's keeping quiet about it."

Bobby looked like he wanted to say something else but he kept his mouth shut.

"We'll go out again tomorrow, I think," Dean told him determinedly.

Bobby just gave Dean a 'whatever you think is best' look and walked from the kitchen, greeting Sam gently before returning to his desk.

Dean took apart the contents of the cooler, opening his untouched can of soda and taking a large bite of his sandwich. As he chewed he stared at the filling; it was only normal peanut butter and strawberry jelly, and wondered at his brother's strange reaction. He supposed it would be one more question to the already long list he had waiting when Sam felt like talking.

SPN

Sam curled up in Bobby's old, worn chair and closed his eyes. He could hear the veteran hunter turning the pages of the tome he was reading and that seemed to help ground him, remind him that nothing bad was going to happen to him.

Dean had just been trying to help him. Dean had just been trying to care for him, like always.

Sam swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth.

He jumped when he felt a warm, calloused hand on his arm, "Sammy? Do you want some water?"

Sam looked up at his brother than his gaze slid automatically to the floor. He sat up and nodded his head.

Dean handed him the glass of water he had poured from the kitchen sink and sat down on the edge of the coffee table across from him.

Without raising his head- keeping his eyes cast downwards- Sam greedily drank the water, handing the empty glass back to Dean when he was finished.

His brother fiddled with the cup, turning it between his palms for a moment before setting it aside, "Sam… What… What happened back there?"

Sam didn't want to talk. He didn't want to tell Dean about the sandwich and what memories it dredged up.

"Was it something about Lilith?" Dean asked quietly and Sam flinched at the name, unable to stop himself.

Dean sighed and Sam felt tears well up in his eyes- his brother was upset with him- and he turned away from his older sibling.

"Sam," Dean began and reached out a hand but the younger man shied away, "Look, I don't expect you to tell me… Just nod for me, okay? Was it something Lilith did that freaked you out back there?"

Sam hesitated a moment before nodding. Dean sat back and wiped a hand down his face.

Sam knew his brother want to ask him more questions, ask him exactly what the demon queen had done, but thankfully Dean said nothing else about it.

"How are you feeling? Okay?"

Sam shrugged and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"Are you still hungry? I can make you something else if you are."

Sam nodded just as his stomach let out a low whine. Dean smiled and stood, picking up the empty glass as he did so, "How about tomato soup?"

Sam bobbed his head once again and closed his eyes, sighing. He listened as Bobby stood up from his desk and walked into the kitchen, speaking quietly to Dean as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Maybe I should tell him, Sam thought and bit his lip.

No, he couldn't let Dean know what had happened to him, what he'd done; his brother would be so disappointed in him if he knew.

Sam was just grateful Dean hadn't gotten mad at him for making the deal in the first place. He was sure Dean was angry with him, just as he had been when Dean had done the same thing. At least Dean hadn't shut him out or yelled at him.

Sam didn't think he'd be able to take it if Dean did that.

SPN

"How you doin' son?" Bobby asked as he emptied the coffee pot, glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye.

Dean shrugged, "I have Sam back so I shouldn't complain."

"But?" Bobby pressed.

The older brother sighed, "I don't want to know, Bobby, but something tells me I should know what Sam went through. I feel like I owe it to him to know what he suffered while I was busy drinking myself into a stupor every night in random motel rooms."

Bobby looked up at the younger man, "Don't beat yourself up over this; it was Sam's choice to do what he did. We all thought he was dead. I'm sure you wouldn't have acted like that if you'd know Sam was alive."

Dean grimaced, "Hell no, I would have been doing my damnedest to save him."

Bobby nodded and sipped at the hot beverage.

"It shouldn't have been a choice Sam had to make," Dean muttered, "I don't know how many times I told him to leave it alone."

Bobby sighed, "Dean-"

"Who would have thought this time those bastards would actually agree to deal?" Dean asked humorlessly.

Bobby didn't comment. No one had been expecting the demons to take Sam seriously.

"Promise me you won't grill the poor boy?" the grizzled hunter asked, "If Sam wants to tell ya, that's fine, if not, don't force 'im."

Dean looked insulted at the very suggestion.

He grabbed a ladle from the drawer and scooped some tomato soup into a bowl.

SPN

Sam reached out tentatively and tapped his brother's shoulder.

"Huh? Sam, you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

Sam nodded, his cheeks burning with shame. Dean grunted and moved to the far side of the bed, "C'mon then."

Without hesitation, Sam climbed onto the bed beside his brother and laid down, his back to Dean.

In moments, Sam heard his brother begin to snore and he inched closer to his sibling, pressing his back against Dean's and sucking in a shaky breath.

Dean rolled over onto his back and reached an arm out, draping it protectively across Sam's chest.

The younger man closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, the comforting presence of his brother driving the nightmares away.

W

Sam stared at the dirt floor of the clubhouse, recalling the happy memories he'd had here, with his brother and Bobby.

Dean had suggested they come out to the woods again and Sam didn't argue.

Sam reached down and began drawing aimlessly in the dust with his finger.

"You want some lunch?" Dean asked carefully and Sam lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

"No peanut butter and jelly this time, I promise," Dean tried to joke but Sam cringed and closed his eyes for a moment.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, "Ham and cheese instead. Is that okay?"

Sam nodded without looking up; if he kept staring at the ground he'd be okay, no one would hurt him. He wasn't allowed to make eye-contact, he was a slave, he-

Sam shook his head and raised a hand to his forehead.

"Sammy? You feeling okay?" Dean asked, his tone worried.

"Y-yeah," Sam muttered quietly and closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a plate with a sandwich sitting in front of him.

Shakily, Sam ate his lunch, trying to ignore the fact that he knew Dean kept staring at him as though he were going to freak out again.

SPN

Dean glanced up from the television when Bobby entered the room and looked at him pointedly, arms crossed.

"What?" the younger man asked.

"I'm thinking about getting a dog," the older hunter told him, "What do you say?"

"A dog? Really? You ready for that kind of responsibility, old man?"

Bobby didn't look impressed, "I've been thinking about it for a while. I think I should get one."

"Sure," Dean answered; he wasn't a big fan of dogs but, hey, it wasn't his house so Bobby could knock himself out.

"I think it would be good for your brother too," Bobby continued.

Instinctively, Dean's eyes travelled to the ceiling- Sam was sleeping upstairs- before returning to the grizzled hunter's face.

"Sam still hasn't come out of his shell," Bobby continued, "And I read somewhere that dogs are good for that sort of thing."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Huh, really?"

Bobby nodded. The Winchesters had been at the Salvage Yard for nearly two weeks and although Bobby knew that Sam wasn't going to one day tell them everything that had happened to him the past year, he was still very reserved, still frightened and suffered from nightmares every night. Bobby had read about all kinds of therapy dogs and decided that might be what Sam needed.

At least Sam could confide in the animal if he didn't want to talk to his brother or Bobby.

"What type are you thinking of?" Dean asked, completely forgetting about the television.

"Golden retriever or lab, something like that," Bobby said, "I was gonna head down to the shelter and see what they've got if you wanna come."

Dean shook his head, "I should stay in case Sammy wakes up."

"Okay, just, let this be a surprise, alright?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded.

Sam had always wanted a dog when they were kids. He'd always drag John over to the windows of pet stores to stare longingly at the puppies for sale. John had explained that they couldn't have a dog but that hadn't stopped Sam from wanting one. For about six years straight- before Dean had blown it for him- Sam had written to Santa Clause, asking for a dog. Sam drew dogs in the margins of his notebooks and for a while had had an imaginary dog, named Fleas, his constant companion while they were enrolled in new school after new school until John had put an end to that childishness.

It'll be a belated birthday present, Dean thought and smiled.

He couldn't wait to see the look on Sam's face when he saw the dog Bobby would bring.

SPN

Sam woke slowly, groggily and for a moment he wasn't sure where he was.

Then he heard the sounds of Dean and Bobby speaking animatedly from downstairs and he relaxed.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Sam brushed his bangs back from his forehead and grimaced at the feeling of the old scars tugging as he hunched forwards.

Standing, Sam yawned tiredly before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the stairs.

"Shh," Bobby chided, "Quiet."

"He'll be so excited," Dean commented, clearly having difficulty holding in his own exuberance.

Sam frowned, what were they talking about? He stepped forward and the top stair creaked, as it was wont to do.

The conversation on the main floor stopped suddenly and then Dean called out, "You awake, Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, quieter but Dean seemed to hear him.

"C'mon down," his brother called, "Bobby and I have a surprise for you."

Sam backed up, his heartbeat picking up speed.

"Sammy?" Dean called again, "You alright up there?"

Sam swallowed and nodded before remembering that Dean couldn't see him.

"F-fine… I'm fine."

Taking a deep breath, Sam gripped the railing and walked down the stairs.

Bobby and Dean were in the kitchen. He saw them, both with huge grins on their faces.

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared at the large, black Labrador Bobby was holding back.

SPN

Dean should have known it was a bad idea. He should have known it was too soon. He should have known it would somehow freak his brother out.

He had just been so excited though, to give Sam something he'd wanted since he had been a little boy.

The look on Sam's face said it all. He was terrified.

At first Dean thought it was the Lab; it was straining against Bobby's hold on its collar, mouth open wide so that its pink tongue lolled out, nails sliding across the linoleum as it tried to get lose and greet Sam. But his brother wasn't even looking at the dog, not really.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean stood up, concernedly when his brother's face paled and he looked to be holding back the urge to be sick. Sam's eyes filled with tears.

"What-" Dean began but Sam turned, stumbling in his haste and fled from the room.

"Sam!" Dean called and followed his brother.

Shit, the eldest Winchester thought, this was not how I imagined this.

"Sammy?" Dean said his sibling's name and caught sight of Sam trying to hide behind Bobby's desk.

"Sam?" he peered over the top of the desk and a lump formed in his throat at the sight of his brother.

The younger man was curled into a ball, hands covering his face while sobs wracked his frame.

"Nuh-No," Sam whimpered, "Pl-please… I c-can't…"

Dean dove around the desk when he heard Sam gag and pulled his brother's hands down, away from his face.

"Sammy, what's wrong? Is it the dog? Shit man, I didn't know."

Sam shook his head, streaming eyes focused on the floor. Dean jumped when the Labrador in question squeezed in beside the brothers and sniffed Sam's face. Dean grabbed the animal's collar and heaved it back, glaring at Bobby who grabbed the dog and yanked it out of the way.

"Sammy? C'mon, talk to me," Dean urged.

The younger man took several watery gulps of air, "It… it's not the d-dog…"

Dean reached out and rubbed his brother's back comfortingly, "What is it then?"

"D-dog f-f-food."

Dean glanced at Bobby, confused. The older hunter simply shrugged. Before Dean could ask, though, Sam continued, "M-made me… they m-made me e-eat dog f-food."

For a moment Dean didn't understand what his brother was saying and then the words sank in.

Those sons of bitches! Dean saw red. Standing, Dean stormed away from his brother; grabbed Bobby's arm- the older hunter released the dog- and dragged him into the kitchen.

"The hell-" Bobby began but Dean bent down and picked up the bowl they had filled with canned dog food for the newest addition to the family.

Bobby took a step back, the smell of the slop unpleasant.

"Those... cocksuckers forced Sam to eat this garbage!" Dean exclaimed and slammed the bowl into the sink in his rage.

Bobby's eyes widened, "Jesus Christ."

Dean's hands clenched into fists and he wanted to beat that Lilith bitch into a pulp.

Bobby's expression was one of sadness. He swiped the baseball cap off his head and ran a hand through his thinning hair.

"Calm down before you go back in the living room, son," Bobby commented and turned to go check on Sam.

Dean remained as though rooted to the spot. He raked his hands through his hair, grinding his teeth as he did so. If the demons had made Sam eat dog food, what else had they done to him?

He was a slave, Dean thought; he was a piece of property.

Dean thought about that awful brand on his brother's chest and the other scars he had seen.

That wasn't Sam anymore; he was a person, Dean's brother, and the eldest Winchester was not going to let anyone forget that.

Gathering himself together, Dean walked back into the living room. Sam was still behind Bobby's desk but he appeared much calmer. His face was pale and his eyes red-rimmed as he scratched behind the black Lab's ears.

"D-Dean, I'm-" Sam began but Dean held up a hand.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Sammy."

Sam nodded and glanced down. His hand left the dog's head and the animal laid its head on his lap, chocolate brown eyes peering into Sam's downturned face.

"S-sometimes they'd l-let me have normal food," Sam muttered quietly.

"Sam," Dean began, "If you don't want to talk about this-"

"Every morning Kincaid would come down with a paper plate of d-dog food and he'd stand there to m-make sure I ate it."

Dean felt tears well up in his eyes. He couldn't imagine how humiliating that would have been.

"I-If I didn't e-eat it," Sam continued, "He'd b-beat me."

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, feeling like he should say something, anything to try and take away his brother's pain.

"Dog food for Lilith's dog," Sam muttered bitterly and glanced at the Labrador, its head still resting on his lap.

The young man reached out and the dog's pink tongue came lolling out, licking his hand.

Sam sighed and wrapped both arms around the dog's thick neck. The animal turned its eyes on Dean, almost seeming to smile at him.

Slowly, Dean stood and retreated from behind the desk, giving his brother some privacy. He shared a look with Bobby.

"I'll get some kibble," the grizzled hunter said quietly and Dean nodded.

W

Chester quickly decided that it was his job to follow Sam everywhere the young man went.

"Looks like you've got some competition, Dean," Bobby remarked as Dean glanced at Sam and Chester sitting side by side on the couch.

Dean shrugged; he didn't take it personally. If that big old Lab helped Sam, he couldn't knock it.

SPN

Sam shakily crossed the small space separating the bed, stepping over Chester, and tugged at Dean's shoulder.

Without saying a word, his brother slide over and Sam curled up beside him, quietly wiping at his tear-streaked face.

W

Sam lowered his hand beneath the table and a wet tongue and gentle teeth picked the morsel of food from his fingers.

"Don't feed that dog at the table," Bobby scolded without even looking up from the newspaper.

Sam almost smiled. Almost.

He stared down at the tomato sandwich Dean had made him for breakfast and his fingers unconsciously sought out Chester's soft muzzle. The dog groaned in pleasure, his tail thumping against one of the table legs.

"Dean," Sam said without taking his eyes off his plate.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Sam felt his brother's hazel eyes on his bowed head and he bit his lip.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath and told Dean why he had freaked out when his brother had offered him peanut butter and jelly.

Dean's mouth opened in shock.

"S-She knew the whole t-time," Sam said, guiltily. He wondered if Dean thought less of him now.

"I was just so hungry."

SPN

The more Sam spoke, the less Dean wanted to hear. He knew why Sam rarely raised his head and often had difficulty speaking.

No eye-contact.

No talking.

No human food.

The list went on and on.

After hearing all Sam had suffered, Dean couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with his brother for making the deal. He had already been punished enough.

Dean knew Sam wasn't telling him everything though and for that he was grateful. Dean didn't think he'd be able to stay calm if he had to hear of another indignity brought against his brother.

Dean looked up from the television screen to see Sam sitting on one of Bobby's wingback chairs with Chester sprawled out on his lap. The older brother smirked; both were sound asleep.

Carefully taking his cellphone from his pocket, Dean snapped a photo.

He jumped when Bobby walked past him on his way into the kitchen, "Yer terrible, Dean Winchester."

Dean winked and put a finger to his lips, "Don't you dare wake them, Bobby."

Chuckling, the grizzled hunter entered the kitchen and Dean turned his attention back to the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an Alice Cooper


	13. Born To Lose

Dean stomped up the stairs- probably louder than necessary- and opened the door to the guest bedroom where his brother was still sleeping.

"Hey Sam, what do you want for break-" Dean stopped mid-sentence when he saw his sibling sitting cross-legged on his bed, head bowed so that it almost rested against the wide dome-like skull of the large black Labrador.

"Uh, sorry," Dean muttered, "Come down when you're, uh, done."

Closing the door, the older brother smiled sadly to himself before retreating back downstairs.

Bobby looked up as Dean entered the kitchen alone.

"Sam up yet?" he asked and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah," Dean answered, "He's uh, talking to Chester."

"Oh," Bobby muttered and Dean nodded. Sam would be down soon, once he gathered himself.

Dean smiled though, "I think getting that dog was one of the best ideas you ever had, old man."

The other hunter smiled back.

"Want some coffee? Just put on a pot?" Bobby offered, changing the subject.

"Is the Pope a Catholic?" Dean chuckled slightly and went to the cupboard to get himself a mug.

Once Dean was sitting down, hot cup of coffee in his hands, Bobby turned his attention to him.

"How'd you feel about going on an errand with me?"

Dean looked up at the older hunter over the rim of his coffee mug.

"Today?" He asked uncertainly.

"No, next year," Bobby answered sarcastically, "Yeah, today."

Dean set his cup down on the table, "I don't know, Bobby. Sam-"

"It'll be a half-hour, forty-five minutes at the most," Bobby interrupted, "But if you're really against this, I'll go alone. Just thought you'd like a little change of scenery, is all."

"Can Sam come?" Dean asked and Bobby nodded, "Of course, if he wants to."

The eldest Winchester glanced up at the sound of toenails clicking on the hardwood floor and Chester galloped into the kitchen, standing up on his back legs to sniff the table.

"Git off!" Bobby grumbled, shoving the animal back down, "Ya great ox."

Chester turned to Dean and, tail wagging furiously, stared imploringly at the young man.

"Hey dude," Dean reached down and scratched the Labrador's ears.

Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway moments later. Dean smiled at his brother, "Hey Sammy, you hungry?"

The younger man looked up quickly before glancing back down, "Yeah."

"What do you want?" Dean asked and stood, "Do you want some coffee? It's fresh."

Sam shook his head, "Uh… cereal?"

"Sure," Dean went to the cupboard and grabbed a bowl and a box of Corn Flakes.

Sam sat down in the empty chair and Chester instantly was at his side, wet nose nudging the young man's arm until Sam gave in and started stroking his head.

"How're you feeling, son?" Bobby asked as Dean set the bowl, box of cereal, milk jug and a spoon in front of Sam.

The youngest Winchesters shrugged and occupied himself with preparing breakfast.

Dean cleared his throat and although Sam didn't look up, the older brother knew his sibling as listening, "Bobby's going out to do a few things today and I said I'd go along with him-"

"Okay," Sam said quietly and began eating.

"And I was wondering if you might like to come with us, just to get out of the house for a little while, you know," Dean finished, looking at his brother hopefully.

Sam shrugged noncommittally. Dean frowned, "Say something."

Again, Sam shrugged. Dean grabbed his coffee mug and drained it, quickly.

"Are you scared?" Dean said suddenly and Sam glanced up, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Are you scared?" Dean repeated. He had no right to be angry at his brother, he knew, especially after what had happened to Sam but he hated it when his sibling was uncommunicative.

Sam glanced down at his bowl of cereal and nodded slowly.

"Of what, Sammy? Lilith's gone, dead," Dean asked, "And you know I'll kill any other demon who even looks at you funny."

"Can I just stay here? Dean?" Sam asked quietly and Dean and Bobby shared a look.

"Son, nothing bad is going to happen to you," Bobby spoke up, "You'll be completely safe."

Sam didn't respond.

Dean breathed in slowly through his nose.

Baby steps, he told himself, don't rush.

"Okay," Dean said as amiably as possible, "Maybe next time."

"Yeah," Sam muttered and stood, picking up his bowl as he did so.

Chester followed the young man eagerly as Sam crossed to the sink and dumped the remaining cereal into the trash.

Sam set the empty bowl in the sink and walked out of the room. Dean turned and watched as his brother paused long enough to put his shoes on before stepping outside onto the front porch and closing the door.

SPN

Sam wrestled the slimy tennis ball from Chester's jaws and threw the bright green sphere again, the Labrador barking excitedly as he zigzagged around the cars to catch his prey.

The young man rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head. Dean had been right. He was afraid. He was scared of demons as he had never been before. But he was safe here, on Bobby's property. If he stayed here, he would be alright.

A cold nose nudged Sam's hand and he looked up into Chester's dark brown eyes. The dog whined and shoved his snout at Sam, wanting the young man to throw the ball again.

Sam grabbed the tennis ball and let it drop onto the ground between his feet. Chester cocked his head to the side and leaned forward to lick Sam's hand.

The dog's ears lifted curiously and Sam heard the front door open behind him. He didn't look as Dean sat down on the step beside him.

Dean reached down, picked up the tennis ball and tossed it for Chester.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said and the younger man glanced at his brother cautiously from the corner of his eye.

"Are you going to be okay here by yourself?" Dean asked and Sam nodded, "I'll have Chester."

Sam quickly looked and saw that Dean was smiling slightly.

"You can call whenever and I'll come running back, okay?" Dean told him and Sam nodded.

"Maybe… when you're ready," Dean began, pausing as he Chester returned so he could throw the ball again, "We could go to that place downtown, just the two of us. You know, that place that only sells salads?"

Sam smiled slightly; impressed that Dean would do something as degrading as eat rabbit food for him.

"You know I've got your back, right?" Dean continued quietly, "That I won't let anything happen to you."

Sam nodded and leaned back as Chester came to a stop in front of him, laying down heavily on the gravel driveway, panting.

The front door opened again and Bobby stepped outside.

"Ready to go, Dean?" the grizzled hunter asked and the young man stood.

"We won't be long, Sam," Dean assured his brother. Bobby touched his shoulder briefly as he passed.

Sam watched silently as his brother and friend climbed into the Impala and back down the driveway. Once the classic Chevy was out of sight though, Sam felt a sudden pang of loneliness he hadn't experienced since the first night he'd spent as Lilith's prisoner.

Chester sat up and sniffed the discarded tennis ball anxiously before climbing the stairs and scratching at the front door. Standing slowly, Sam turned and let the dog inside, following behind the Labrador.

W

Dean and Bobby left the house more and more frequently and although, at first, Sam had to fight against the idea that they were never coming back, it did get easier. Sam soon actually didn't mind so much when Dean and Bobby left for a few hours, feeling as though he was allowed to let his guard down.

Sometimes Sam would simply spend the entire time curled up on the couch- usually sharing the small space with Chester- with his eyes closed; listening to the familiar sounds of the house and salvage yard. Trying to engrain the warm, comforting memories in his mind to cover over the ones of his time as Lilith's slave.

Other times he'd spend hours in the bathroom, staring into the mirror, trying to keep eye contact with his own reflection, telling himself that nothing was going to happen if he met Bobby or Dean's eye.

He liked having long, albeit one-sided conversations with Chester, talking about anything and everything, but usually about the past year. If people hired therapists to sit and listen to them talk about their lives, than a chocolate Lab had to be even better. It was easier talking to Chester. He never replied, he never judged, sometimes he'd even lick Sam's face if he started to cry, he'd insist on laying on the young man's lap and sigh contentedly as Sam scratched his back.

Having the chance to be alone, really alone, helped Sam to get himself under control, to order his thoughts and feelings, to work on moving past Lilth and thinking about his future.

Upon his return, Dean could almost always be counted on to bring back a small gift back for Sam. Once it had been a book he'd thought Sam would like to read, another time he'd arrived with a cup of a specialty coffee.

At first Sam had been embarrassed and hadn't known how he was supposed to respond but then Dean would shrug and say it was nothing and that would be the end of it. Dean wasn't expecting Sam to throw his arms around him in a hug; Sam guessed Dean would claim he did it because that's what older brothers did for their younger siblings.

SPN

Dean stared at the menu in front of him, trying hard not to scowl. He was doing this for Sam.

It was clear that his brother was nervous. Sam scrutinized everyone who walked through the front door or past their table. The kid had looked like he was about to take a heart attack when their waitress appeared- a pretty blonde whose nametag read, 'Lily'. But other than that, Dean though Sam was doing well.

"At least they have soda," Dean commented, chuckling as he looked over the list of salad, Gluten-free and vegetarian food on the menu.

Their waitress appeared and the brothers ordered. Dean closed his menu and handed it to Lily, glancing at his brother to see that Sam had his head up and was looking right at him.

Dean broke into a grin but didn't speak; Sam returned the gesture tentatively before looking down and taking a sip of water.

Dean glanced around the restaurant, raising an eyebrow at the décor. The walls were painted pea green with pictures of still-life vegetables and fruit hanging in frames, the floors were black slate, and the tables were bamboo. The music flowing from the speakers was some kind of Indie rock that Dean absolutely hated. Nothing could beat Iron Maiden or Metallica.

Dean took a drink of his Coca-Cola. If Sam was worried about demons, he needn't be; no self-respecting hellspawn would set foot in this hippie factory.

"Here's your salads! Enjoy!" their waitress announced and set their orders on the table.

Dean flashed the young woman a charming smile, "Thanks."

Ah, Caesar salad, the only one Dean never felt like a nerd eating.

The brothers were silent as they ate, Dean simply enjoying being able to do something normal with his sibling.

SPN

Lilith blinked and peered around. She smiled and ran her hands down her body, admiring her new host. Yes, it would do nicely.

It was good to be back.

The demon queen looked out through the bay window of her host's home. A bright yellow school bus stopped across from the house and a little girl in pigtails and a older boy stepped onto the sidewalk.

Lilith grinned toothily, she had been planning on leaving as soon as she had secured her host but decided she had time for a small snack.

The front door opened and the girl ran over to Lilith.

"Mommy, look what I made in class today!" the child held out a piece of paper that had a painting of a bright green flower and a smiling sun on it.

Lilith grinned toothily, "Hello darlings."

SPN

Chester looked up at the young man as Sam kicked him in the side again. Sighing, the dog jumped from the bed and walked to where the hunter's hand dangled out from the covers.

The Labrador licked Sam's fingers and the young man woke, peered owlishly around for a moment before looking down.

"Go back to sleep," Sam muttered and rolled over onto his side.

Huffing, Chester laid down beside the bed, liquid brown eyes watching the blanket-shrouded form of the young man for a moment before closing again.

W

Chester followed Dean downstairs, yawning widely. He sat on the kitchen floor as Bobby and Dean poured themselves coffee and sat down, talking.

"How'd Sam sleep?" the veteran hunter asked and Chester wagged his tail at the sound of his friend's name.

"If he had any nightmares," Dean began, "He didn't wake me up."

If the hunters were to look at the Labrador at that moment, they'd have seen a rather satisfied expression on the dog's face.

Bobby took a drink of his coffee and cleared his throat; Chester cocked his head, something important was about to be said.

"I've gotta go get some car parts Belle Fourche and I was wondering if you'd want to come along?"

Dean frowned and Chester mimicked the gesture.

"Belle Fourche? That's almost six hours away," Dean commented.

"I know," Bobby agreed, "All I'm saying is, I could use the company on the drive."

Dean looked up at the ceiling, "Couldn't find what you needed anywhere closer?"

The veteran hunter shook his head, "And I need those parts."

Chester stood and looked from one man to the other. He didn't see a problem. They had been gone for hours before. Besides, he would protect Sam from anything that tried to hurt the young man. The Labrador smiled confidently; recalling the grey squirrel he had chased to the road after the creature had dared to sit on the porch railing near Sam.

"I don't know, Bobby," Dean hedged, "It's a long time to be away."

The grizzled hunter rolled his eyes, "It isn't like we're going to be gone for a week. A day at the most. But if you don't want to go, that's fine. Don't worry about it."

Dean bit his lip, "Let's just see how Sam's feeling today, okay?"

Bobby nodded, "That's fair."

Chester sniffed the air and turned away from the two hunters, claws clicking on the linoleum as he walked to the bottom of the stairs in time to see Sam standing at the top.

SPN

If Dean wanted to go with Bobby than he might as well. Sam didn't have a problem with his brother being away for a few hours. Sam didn't need babysitting. If Dean stayed he'd just whine about how bored his was because there was nothing good to watch on TV.

"If you're okay with this, Sam," Dean said, slowly, still reluctant, "You know, if you want me to stay, you can say so."

Sam shook his head and glanced down at his feet for a moment before meeting his brother's gaze.

"Bobby wants you with him," the younger man told his brother.

"Okay," Dean finally agreed, "Just remember, I'm-"

"-A phone call away," Sam finished the sentence, smiling slightly.

Dean smirked, "Hey, that's my line. Okay, we'll be gone for a day; we should be back by the evening. I promise. I'll call you when we get there, alright?"

Sam nodded and reached down to fiddle with Chester's ears, the Labrador leaning his head against the young man's jean-clad leg.

Bobby bade Sam farewell and went outside to start the car. Dean hesitated at the door, glancing back at his brother.

For a moment, Sam thought he saw just going to say 'screw it' and stay but then Dean smiled, "See ya."

Sam waved to his brother and the front door closed. Sighing, he listened for a moment to the sound of the Impala's engine growing fainter as it backed out of the driveway and onto the road.

Chester blinked up at Sam and the young man walked over to the couch and sat down, patting the cushion beside him, letting the Labrador jump up next to him.

Sam turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he found a documentary on wolves.

Sam smiled and rubbed Chester's neck as the screen showed a mother wolf playing with her three young pups.

W

Dean called six hours later and told Sam that he and Bobby were going to take longer because some of the parts the veteran hunter needed were not in Belle Fourche. They were close by, at least, in Newell, but that meant that Dean and Bobby wouldn't be making it back to Sioux Falls that night.

"Sorry Sammy," Dean apologized, sounding tired and irritated.

The younger man insisted it was fine, that he'd survive the night without his big brother.

"Okay, if you want to talk, call me whenever," Dean told Sam and the younger man promised he would.

Sam looked down at Chester, the Labrador's head on his knee as the canine silently begged for a bite of the young man's dinner.

After hanging up the phone and finishing his meal- giving into Chester and letting the dog have some as well- Sam returned to the living room and changed the channel, trying to find a movie he could watch.

"-New York mother of two is still missing. Police and neither confirming nor denying foul play in this morning's disappearance of Gemma Fredrickson or her children, Aiden, age 10 and Erica, age 5."

The woman's picture flashed onto the screen, showing a woman in her early thirties with curly blonde hair and blue eyes.

Sam lowered the remote he was holding as he continued to watch the screen.

"Witnesses say Mrs. Frederickson was last seen around eight-thirty this morning, waiting in front of the house for the bus with her children. Mrs. Frederickson is a respected member of the community, her husband, Glenn Frederickson says; she volunteers at the local homeless shelter, offering the men and women there dental care free of charge."

Adults weren't immediately considered 'missing persons' unless there was something suspicious about their disappearance. Sam wondered what had the cops so anxious to find the woman, besides the fact that her son and daughter were also gone. Normally though, this would seem like the mother had taken her children and left her husband, going to stay with a relative until she either returned home or filed for divorce.

The screen showed the outside of the Frederickson house, a quaint bungalow with flower boxes in the windows and a pink tricycle lying on the lawn. Yellow police tape was crossed over the front door as law enforcement personnel walked around the property. A crowd of concerned and curious neighbhours had gathered on the sidewalk, held back only by a fat, sweaty cop who looked like he'd rather be back at the station, sitting at his desk enjoying coffee and donuts.

"In other news, the President-" Sam turned the channel and looked down at Chester.

Deciding he'd had enough television for the day, Sam touched the OFF button and stood, going over to Bobby's bookshelf and searching the titles for something interesting.

W

Sam startled awake and sat up, a copy of Arthur Miller's The Crucible, falling onto his lap.

Chester was barking at the door, his ears laying flat against his skull, his hackles raised and his tail rigid.

Groggily, Sam checked the time on the clock through the kitchen doorway and saw that it was nearly midnight.

Standing, Sam stretched and moved towards the dog, "You wanna go outside?"

Chester ignored Sam and growled low and threatening deep in his throat. The doorbell suddenly chimed and Sam frowned, wondering who would be out at the late hour.

Maybe they'll go away if they think nobody's home, Sam thought.

The doorbell rang more insistently this time and Sam cringed. Chester jumped against the door, his barking becoming more and more frantic.

Stepping forward, Sam grabbed the Labrador's collar and yanked the dog back, leaning forwards to peer through the peephole.

Sam's heart leaped into his throat and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Standing before the door was the missing woman, Gemma Frederickson. Even in the dark- the porch light was not on- Sam could see that her eyes were completely white.

"No," Sam breathed and took a step back, nearly tripping over Chester as the dog rushed the door again. Lilith couldn't be here. She was dead! The angel killed her! That's what Dean said anyway.

Sam jumped when the doorbell rang once more and Chester howled.

Lilith knew he was there. She wasn't going to leave.

Sam stared at the door for a long moment before shoving Chester away with his foot and opening it.

"It's not nice to keep a lady waiting," Lilith chastised, one hand on her hip.

Sam said nothing. He was struggling just to keep the Labrador from getting past him and attacking the demon.

Lilith smiled, "Did you enjoy your vacation, Sammy?"

"P-please," Sam whispered, his breath hitching in his chest.

The demon queen sighed, "We made a deal, Sam. I hold up my end as long as you hold up yours."

"H-how are you still alive?" Sam asked, feeling as though he could barely breathe.

"Did your angel friend tell you he killed me?" Lilith laughed, "He didn't. He just sent me back to Hell."

Sam began shaking with fear. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to leave but if he refused Dean would die.

"So, what's it going to be?" the demon continued, "Are you going to come quietly or is big brother moving Downstairs?"

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He couldn't let Dean die. Not after everything his brother had done for him.

Sam shook his head, "I- I'll come."

Lilith smiled, "I thought you would."

The young man lowered his head, defeated. He tried to slip out the door but the Labrador squeezed past him, leaping at the demon.

Lilith took a step back and raised her hand.

"Don't!" Sam cried but it was too late. There was a sickening crunch and Chester's limp body fell to the porch, his neck broken.

Lilith narrowed her eyes and smoothed the front of the flower-pattered blouse she was wearing, "I hate dogs; stupid slobbering animals. Although, that one would make a good Hellhound; what do you think, Sammy?"

Sam stared at the dead body of his friend and said nothing.

"Oh well, come along," the demon continued brusquely, and held out a hand.

With a heavy heart, Sam reached out and took Lilith's offered hand and the two vanished from the porch as quickly as if they had never been there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Motorhead song.


	14. I Own You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some non-con. It is nothing overly graphic but I just wanted to let you all know what was coming up.

Sam was terrified. He couldn't seem to stop shaking.

He stared at the floor, trying to control his breathing and keep from having a panic attack.

"It's not as nice as the other house," Lilith said, as though something like that would matter to Sam, "But it does come with a special upgrade."

Sam tilted his head up ever so slightly. It looked like a normal house to him, nothing particularly remarkable about it.

The demon smiled as though she knew what he was thinking.

"It's on the outside," she said in a condescending tone.

"Covered in wards against angels," Lilith continued, "So that your little friend won't be dropping in unexpectedly again."

Sam felt tears well up in his eyes. Although he hadn't asked- or expected- to be rescued, the angel had helped Dean find him. But now, the angel couldn't enter the house at all. Could he even find it?

Sam didn't know how to feel. Even though the angel had led Dean to him, he hadn't killed Lilith. Maybe the celestial being wasn't strong enough to destroy her?

Just as well, Sam did not want to jeopardize his deal with the demon queen and risk Dean dying because of it.

Lilith sighed, "That damn angel killed some of my most loyal followers. So irritating."

"But not all!" she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together, "I'm very popular."

The sound of light footsteps announced the arrival of one of the queen's said followers.

"Sam, meet Ruby," Lilith said.

The new demon had straight, light-blonde hair and grey eyes. She was wearing a red leather jacket, a white t-shirt, tight-fitting blue jeans and red suede boots.

"Huh, I thought he'd be taller," Ruby commented wryly.

Lilith laughed at the joke and patted Sam on the head like a dog.

"What are you going to do with him?" Ruby asked curiously.

The demon queen put a finger to her lips, thinking.

"I'm in the mood for something a little different," Lilith told her, "Something I couldn't do before."

"Come along, Sam," the demon queen beckoned and Sam didn't have any choice but to follow.

The young man followed Lilith as she walked up the stairs. He had no idea what the demon was going to do to him. Tears welled up in his eyes but he quickly wiped them away with his sleeve.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Lilith turned down the hallway and continued walking until she reached what looked like the master bedroom.

She stood in front of the door, holding it open and motioned for Sam to go inside.

Lilith closed the door, a sly look on her face.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered.

Sam looked up, a horrified expression on his face, before he could stop himself.

"I'm waiting," Lilith said, one hand on her hip, tapping her fingers impatiently.

Sam looked back down at the floor and swallowed. This couldn't be happening. Not what he thought was going to happen.

Sam undressed slowly, his fingers shaking. He could feel Lilith's eyes on him as he shed his clothes, the garments falling onto the carpeted floor around him.

"Get on the bed," Lilith ordered and Sam sat down on the edge of the mattress, caught somewhere between humiliation and terror.

Lilith approached him, wearing only her host's bra and panties. She reached out with one hand and lifted Sam's chin.

Smiling, she bent down and kissed Sam on the lips. The young man resisted the urge to pull away, the taste of sulfur heavy on his tongue.

Breaking away from the kiss first, Lilith put her hand on Sam's chest and pushed him down onto the bed.

The demon queen climbed onto the bed and straddled Sam, grinning wolfishly down at him.

Sam's chest was heaving was he fought not to panic. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't do what Lilith wanted of him but if he didn't, surely he'd be punished.

Glancing down, Lilith smirked, "What's the matter, Sam? Am I not pretty enough? Should I trade this in for a newer model?"

The demon put her hands on either side of her face and smiled down at him. Sam shook his head, trying to look anywhere but at the demon.

"You're so modest its adorable," Lilith told him and Sam tensed when he felt her hand near his groin.

Sam whimpered at the invasive touch- making the demon chuckle- and tried desperately to think of something else, anything else instead of what was happening.

SPN

Dean couldn't sleep. He was worried about his brother. This was the farthest he'd been from Sam since that angel had helped rescue him weeks ago.

Even though it was the middle of the night he couldn't help but grab his cell phone and dial Bobby's number.

The phone rang and rang and rang.

"What're you doing, boy?" the grizzled hunter grumbled from the bed beside his.

"Sorry," Dean muttered apologetically, "I couldn't sleep. I was just trying to check in on Sammy."

Bobby groaned, "He's probably fast asleep. Don't wake him."

Dean nodded, "Yeah… but I haven't been this far from him since-"

"I know," Bobby interrupted, "And I know you're worried. Listen, if you're so concerned, call 'im in the morning when he'll be awake."

"Okay," Dean agreed; by then they'd have the parts Bobby needed and be on their way back to Sioux Falls.

"An' try to get some rest yerself," Bobby told him before rolling over, snoring within minutes.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Bobby was right. All he'd end up doing if he called again was wake Sam. His brother would probably be annoyed with him for his worrying.

Sam was fine. The house was protected against every kind of supernatural bastard out there and besides, Sammy had Chester.

Dean set his phone aside and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

SPN

Sam stared blankly up at the ceiling. Lilith chuckled from across the room.

"I don't know about you but I enjoyed that," she told him, smirking.

Sam felt tainted, dirty. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over onto his side, bringing his knees up until he was lying in the fetal position.

"Up," Lilith said, "You are not staying here."

Sam slowly sat up and glanced at the floor, looking for his clothes.

"Looking for these?" Lilith asked in a teasing tone. Sam peered across the room and saw the demon holding his clothes.

Sam's heart sank and he stood up from the bed. Face burning with shame, he followed Lilith out of the bedroom. They walked down the hallway and stopped before another door. Lilith opened it to reveal what must have been a second bedroom but this one had no furniture in it, only the carpet remained. Its one window had a piece of plywood covering it.

"There," the demon said, "Better than your room before."

Sam didn't reply. He just wanted his clothes back.

With her free hand, Lilith pushed Sam into the room.

She began closing the door and then paused, "I almost forgot."

The demon fished Sam's boxer shorts from the pile of clothes and tossed them at him. Smirking, she turned the light off and closed the door, locking it after herself.

Sam sank to the floor. He reached out and grabbed his shorts but didn't put them on. His eyes welled up with tears but he didn't wipe them away, instead they ran down his cheeks unchecked. He slowly listed to the right until he was lying on his side, his face pressed against the slightly scratchy carpet. Sam closed his eyes even as the tears continued to fall and slipped into a restless slumber.

SPN

Dean swore quietly when the phone rang and rang and rang.

It was eight-thirty in the morning; Sam should be awake by now. He was never a late sleeper.

Bobby glanced at the young man from the corner of his eye, "Still no answer?"

Dean scowled at him, "What do you think?"

Bobby frowned, "Maybe he is just sleeping in for once, God knows the kid could use it. Or he could be outside with Chester."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I guess. Just makes me nervous, is all."

"Understandable," Bobby agreed, "Why don't you try again once we get the parts?"

"Okay," Dean said and sat his phone down, watching the town fly by as Bobby drove through it.

SPN

Sam sat with his face pressed against the wall beside the window.

It was morning. He was sure of it. He could hear the faint sounds of car doors slamming shut, the rumble of a garbage truck and the muted voices of kids walking to school.

He wondered if Dean and Bobby were on their way to Sioux Falls yet. He wondered if Dean had tried to call him.

Sam felt better- but only slightly- now that he was wearing his boxers again. At least he wasn't naked.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the night before. Sam swallowed thickly as he recalled what meal he should expect from Lilith's demons.

As if on cue the door opened and Ruby stepped inside.

She had a Styrofoam plate with her and as soon as Sam saw what was on it his stomach turned sour.

"Lilith said this was your favourite," the blonde-haired demon joked and set the plate down.

Sam closed his eyes. He was going to be sick. He was sure of it.

"Everyone talks about you being some big, bold hunter," Ruby said, "But you aren't. You're just a scared little boy."

Sam didn't respond. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at the mushy dog food on the plate.

He didn't want to do it but he knew he could, he'd done it before.

Sam reached out with a shaking hand and scooped up some of the dog food on his fingers.

SPN

"Damn it, Sam! Where the hell are you?" Dean exclaimed as once again, his brother failed to answer the phone.

Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to calm down; not an easy task.

"I don't like this, Bobby," he told the grizzled hunter, "I really don't like this."

"I hear ya," the older man said and pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

They had collected the car parts with little trouble and stopped at a local diner for a quick breakfast. Climbing into the car, Dean had instantly tried to contact his brother. With no success.

Although Dean was sure he was overreacting, it was better to be safe than sorry. He'd relax once he saw Sam with his own two eyes.

I'm never leaving the kid again, Dean thought as he stared out the front window; this is too much for me.

SPN

"C'mon," Ruby said as Sam choked down the last of the dog food, "Lilith wants to see you."

Sam stood and followed the demon out into the hallway. He stopped though when he realized Ruby was heading towards the bedroom.

No, Sam thought, please not again.

"Slave!" Ruby barked and Sam quickly caught up with her, not wanting to get into trouble.

He shook when he saw Lilith, the demon queen smiling wolfishly.

Ruby closed the door behind them and left Sam and Lilith alone.

Before Sam could move, an invisible force shoved him backwards and into the door so hard that it trembled in its hinges.

Sam cried out in pain, unable to stop himself. He tried to move but found he was pinned.

"I think you need to have a little reminder of my rules, Sam," Lilith said as she approached him, "The vacation's over. You're mine now."

The demon reached out and grabbed Sam's face, squeezing painfully.

Sam closed his eyes and Lilith laughed, her sulfur-tainted breath warm on his face.

SPN

It was just after a quarter past three when Bobby and Dean started down the familiar road that led to the Salvage Yard.

Dean was on the edge of his seat, literally. He could barely wait for Bobby to stop so he could get out and make sure Sam was okay.

He'd called the house on and off throughout the five hour and forty-five minute drive, only to receive no response.

"C'mon Bobby!" Dean urged, his heart hammering in his chest.

As soon as he saw the chain-link fence that surrounded Bobby's yard, Dean had to stop himself from leaping from the car.

As it was, he didn't bother waiting until the vehicle was at a complete stop before getting out because the sight of the front door hanging ajar was giving Dean heart palpitations.

He froze when he caught sight of the porch, almost as though he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing before he tore forward.

"BOBBY!" he roared as he shot up the steps and fell onto his knees beside the stiff, bloated body of the black Labrador.

"Jesus!" the veteran hunter exclaimed at the sight of the animal.

"SAM!" Dean stood up and headed into the house, "SAMMY!"

He caught sight of a discarded copy of The Crucible but nothing seemed out of place.

"Sammy!" Dean called again and headed upstairs, taking three at a time.

SPN

Lilith gave a throaty chuckle as she looked at Sam. Reaching down, she traced the raised scare the brand had left on Sam's chest with one finger, making him shudder.

SPN

"He's not here, Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, "He's gone!"

"Shit," the grizzled hunter swore and swiped his baseball cap off to scratch his head.

"But who-" Dean began to ask but then paused. He passed Bobby and walked out into the yard, staring up at the sky.

"Dean! What're you doing?" Bobby called.

"Hey! You! Angel! I know you're up there! Get down here now!" Dean shouted, causing Bobby to roll his eyes.

"Git in the house, Dean!" he ordered but the younger man ignored him.

Sighing, Bobby left the porch and crossed the yard to reach Dean.

"What're you thinking, son?" he asked and Dean turned to him.

"Lilith's got Sam," he snarled, "I know she does."

Bobby raised one eyebrow, "I thought that angel killed her."

Dean nodded, "That's what he said. I didn't see it though, just took his word for it 'cause, you know, he's an angel, why would he lie?"

Bobby's expression turned thoughtful, "Why indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Shinedown song.


	15. Rusty Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some non-con. It's nothing overly graphic but I thought I should warn you all that it was coming up.

Bobby didn't know what to do. He watched for a few minutes as Dean stomped around in a circle, shouting up at the sky.

He grabbed at the younger man's arm and Dean all but glared at him. Bobby didn't take it personally though, he knew that Dean was angry and scared and it wasn't directed at him in the least.

"Maybe it takes some time for it to answer," Bobby suggested gently.

Dean sighed and nodded, "Yeah… maybe… Or I'm being ignored."

Bobby pursed his lips but said nothing. There was really nothing to say because he didn't know if the angel would return or not.

"We should take care of Chester," the grizzled hunter told Dean and the younger man nodded, "I'll get him."

Dean walked away from Bobby, heading towards the porch slowly, sadly.

What the hell is going on? Bobby thought; haven't the boys been through enough?

SPN

Sam forced himself not to pull away as Lilith kissed him. The taste of sulfur filled his mouth, making him gag.

The demon sat up, chuckling.

"Where'd you learn to kiss like that?" She asked mockingly as Sam swallowed thickly, his eyes closed as he fought not to be sick, "Did that little whore from college teach you that?"

Sam, his eyes still shut, shook his head.

"C'mon Sam," Lilith urged, "You can tell me."

The demon queen laughed deep in her throat and reached down, her hand on Sam's thigh.

The young man shivered at the demon's touch and Lilith lifted an eyebrow curiously, "A little late to be embarrassed, Sam."

Lilith slid her hand to the side, changing position and Sam's eyes opened suddenly, the young man gasping out loud as his body responded to the demon's hand automatically, betraying him.

The demon queen grinned widely, knowingly.

"Oh Sam," she murmured huskily, "We should have done this long ago."

SPN

Dean carried Chester into the backyard, the Labrador's head hanging limply over his arm.

Even though he said he'd take care of the animal on his own, Bobby followed alongside him, carrying two shovels.

The hunter set the dog down in the grass by the copse of trees behind the house and took a shovel from his friend.

Dean stabbed the blade into the dry ground and sighed, "Why him?"

Bobby shrugged, "Animals oftentimes can sense supernatural creatures- like demons- long before people know they're there."

Dean nodded and dug out a chunk of dirt, beginning Chester's grave.

"'Course Lilith probably wanted to add insult to injury," Bobby continued, "Knowing you'd find 'im."

Dean nodded and knelt down, stroking the dog's head. He had probably tried to protect Sammy; even though they'd only had Chester for a short time, the dog was clearly attached to the younger hunter.

Straightening, blinking the moisture that had suddenly accumulated in his eyes, Dean focused on digging, trying not to think about what might be happening to his brother at that very moment.

SPN

Castiel heard Dean Winchester's calls but did not go to him.

Instead, he faced Uriel- the archangel glaring at him angrily.

"You interfered!" the archangel snapped, "You were not meant to act!"

"Nothing has changed, brother," Castiel said calmly, the icy wind from the mountaintop they stop upon buffeting him went unnoticed, "Lilith still lives, neither Winchester will be the Righteous Man."

"Why did you help that human rescue his brother?" Uriel wanted to know, the word 'human' hissed as though it tasted foul to him.

"I thought that the Winchesters had suffered enough for-" the dark-haired angel began but he was interrupted.

"The Winchesters?" Uriel asked, "That abomination ruined our destiny! It stopped us from having Paradise!"

Castiel tilted his head, "You believe that Sam Winchester deserved to be abused by Lilith? May I remind you that he was trying only to save his brother."

Uriel stepped toward the shorter angel until he was standing over him, "You dare lecture me, Castiel, on those mud-monkeys?"

Castiel blinked but did not back down, "You should not be so concerned. You yourself said that there was another human who could become the Righteous Man we need."

Uriel narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his sibling.

"You are right," he consented, "The Winchesters are no longer my concern. As long as Lilith remains unaware of Adam Milligan, everything shall proceed as planned."

Great cold flakes of snow began to fall on the angels but both creatures ignored them.

Castiel hated to agree with Uriel but he knew it was necessary lest his brother become suspicious of where his loyalties lay. Adam could not go to Hell. He was an innocent. He must not break the First Seal.

The angel did not doubt Lilith's intelligence either. She had already agreed to Sam Winchester's deal, tearing up Dean's contract and keeping his brother for herself. As long as Lilith lived neither Sam nor Dean would shed blood in Hell. If Dean expired, his soul would ascend to Heaven, if Sam perished, his Hellbound soul would be tortured for eternity, never given the chance to become the torturer.

If the demon queen realized that the Milligan boy shared blood with the Winchesters, he would be prevented from becoming the Righeous Man Uriel and the others so eagerly wanted. Lilith would see to it that no one with Winchester blood met his destiny.

"Do not meddle in human affairs again, Castiel. You are charged with observing, unless you wish to answer to Michael for insubordination," Uriel warned his sibling before vanishing, leaving the other angel alone.

Castiel did not want to face the archangel for the crime of disobedience. Although Michael did not hate the humans as Uriel clearly did, he would not be pleased to find Castiel was doing more than just watching.

Sighing, the dark-haired angel stared out at the high mountain peaks that surrounded his perch, thinking about his involvement in the Winchesters' lives already and what else he was willing to do for a few lowly humans.

SPN

Dean wiped his forearm across his sweaty brow and bent down to pat the dirt into place with the flat of his shovel.

He and Bobby had finally finished burying Chester.

The younger hunter sighed and looked skyward as though searching for the trench coat-wearing angel.

"You want a beer?" Bobby asked and Dean shrugged.

"Son, there's not much you can do right now," the grizzled hunter told Dean and the younger man's shoulders slumped.

It was true. Dean couldn't force the angel to appear and it seemed all his earlier yelling had been for naught. No divine intervention was coming this time.

What made it worse, though, was that this time Dean knew that Sam was alive. He knew that his brother was out there somewhere, being held as a hostage because of him. Sam had made the deal in the first place to save him.

It was killing Dean not to know where Sam was. Before, when he'd been tricked into believing his brother was dead, he'd thought his sibling was in Hell. Not knowing if Sam was in South Dakota or even in the United States at all terrified Dean.

"I'll call around," Bobby said and took the shovel from Dean, "See if anyone's spotted any signs of demons."

The elder Winchester nodded but he doubted Bobby would get any answer. Lilith didn't seem the type to get sloppy and she certainly wasn't about to let her position slip to watchful hunters.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean whispered as he followed Bobby towards the house, "I should have been here with you and I wasn't. This is my fault."

SPN

Bobby handed Dean a beer and watched, concerned as the younger man downed half of it in one long swallow.

"We'll find 'im," Bobby told Dean, trying to remain positive despite the direness of the situation.

The elder Winchester stared at him, "How? We needed an angel to help us find Sam before."

Bobby sighed, "We know Lilith's not gonna kill yer brother. Sam's alive at least."

Dean's face twisted, "But what's that bitch doing to him?"

Bobby didn't speak, didn't know how to reply.

Instead, he ignored the question, "I'll see if I can find demon signs and we can go from there. Even Lilith's gotta leave some kind o' mark wherever she goes. She's still a demon."

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer.

"I'm going back outside," the younger hunter announced and Bobby stared after him.

The veteran hunter cringed when he heard Dean's voice raised in a shout and knew the younger man was trying to call the angel down.

SPN

Castiel paced along the boulevard in front of the Milligan house.

Uriel seemed adamant about having Adam become the Righteous Man required to shed blood in Hell. The archangel appeared to have it all planned out, as though this was as it was meant to be all along.

Adam Milligan would sell his soul to a Crossroads' demon and be sent to Hell where, hopefully, he would fulfill the destiny that had until a little over a year ago belonged to Dean Winchester.

What would Uriel do, though, to create such grief in the young man that Adam would go to such lengths as to make a deal with a demon?

Castiel looked up as Adam's mother, Kate, pulled her car into the driveway of the house and exited the vehicle, still wearing her pink nurse's scrubs and white shoes.

The angel's blue eyes widened with realization.

Adam's mother was the most important thing in his life. His only family member and if she was gone… well, Castiel had seen enough human grief to guess how the teen would react. And just what he would do if given the chance to bring his Mother back.

If Lilith remained in the dark about Adam's true lineage, then perhaps they did have a chance of starting the Apocalypse without the Winchesters. However, the demon queen was anything but stupid, that much was clear in her dealings with Sam Winchester and if she found out that Adam was also the offspring of John…

Castiel sighed. He had never felt indecision like this before. He chose to do what he did best, wait and watch what happened; if only to avoid angering Uriel again.

SPN

"Dean!" Bobby called, "Come on inside."

The younger man looked at him, "Did you find any demon signs?"

The grizzled hunter shook his head sadly. He had called around, asked his friends if they had seen anything and told them to keep a lookout but so far he had had no luck.

The sun was setting now though and Dean had been outside for hours, calling out to the angel who continued to ignore him. The hunter's voice hoarse from shouting for so long.

"You need something to eat and some time to rest," Bobby told Dean and reluctantly- he could see the younger man trying to decide whether he should listen to him or keep on calling the angel- nodded and trudged inside.

"Why isn't he answering?" Dean asked, his voice scratchy, "He was the one who told me Sam was still alive. He was the one who came to me. He didn't have to."

Bobby sighed, "I don't know, son. I can't tell you what it was thinking or what it's thinking now."

Dean's head lowered in defeat, "I never should have let Sam go out alone that night. I should have gone with him. If I had, he never would have made that deal."

Bobby reached out and touched his arm, "Don't think like that, Dean. We'll find him. We will. If we have to look for another year, ten years, we will find your brother."

Dean nodded and sniffed, clearly having difficulty controlling his emotions.

"Let's get something warm into your belly," Bobby said and led the young man into the kitchen where he had been re-heating some chili he'd found in the freezer.

SPN

Sam sank to the floor of the bare bedroom and closed his eyes. He was exhausted.

The sun was beginning to set- Sam saw it through the window of the master bedroom- and Lilith decided that it was enough for the day.

Sam, extremely grateful, had tiredly pulled his boxers on and followed the demon out of the room and down the hallway.

The demon queen held the door open for Sam.

"Unfortunatly I have other matters to see to," she told him, "I can't always give you my undivided attention."

Sam, his head bowed, said nothing.

"I'm a very busy girl," she continued in a sultry voice, "But don't worry, there will always be time for us to have fun."

With that, Lilith ushered Sam into the room and locked the door after him.

Now he was lying on his back, staring up at the popcorn ceiling overhead. He felt dirty and embarrassed for doing what he had done- but he hadn't been able to stop- his body had acted naturally to Lilith's touch despite how disgusting it was.

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and dripped down the sides of his face.

SPN

"Dean, why don't you go to bed already?" Bobby asked, peering at the younger man from the bottom of the staircase.

The eldest Winchester was sitting, slouching really, on the couch, staring at the television, attention focused on a news station.

"He's still out there, Bobby," Dean said quietly, "He's out there somewhere."

The grizzled hunter sighed and stepped down onto the floor.

"Son, you're not doing Sam any good by wearing yerself out," he said, "You gotta get some sleep. We don't know how long until we get Sam back but you can't keep this up. It ain't good for you and it ain't gonna be good for yer brother."

Dean looked over at him, his hazel eyes wide and red-rimmed, "You're right, Bobby. Yeah… I should get some rest. Try, at least. Sam will be okay. He will be. He will be okay."

The grizzled hunter stared at the younger man for a moment before stepped forward and turning the television off with the remote.

"C'mon son," he said and touched Dean's arm, "Let's get you to bed."

Bobby led the eldest Winchester slowly up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. Dean sat down on the bed closest to the door and then lay on the mattress without even changing his clothes.

The grizzled hunter remained in the doorway for a long moment, watching the younger man, his heart breaking for him.

Dean's eyes closed and his breath became slow and even. Bobby turned and headed down the hallway to his own bedroom and closed the door.

Sighing, the grizzled hunter ran a hand across his face before shaking his head.

We're never going to find that boy, he thought, not without help.

But Bobby knew that help would be a long time coming.

"What are we going to do?" the veteran hunter asked out loud, "Just what the hell are we supposed to do?"

SPN

Sam blinked awake owlishly at the sound of the door opening and Ruby stepped inside the room with a Styrofoam plate.

"Enjoy your breakfast," the demon told him and sat the plate down.

Sam pulled himself into a seated position and began eating the mushy brown gob of dog food.

The blonde demon smirked, "Good doggie."

Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his mouth and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep from being sick.

"Stand up," the demon said, "Lilith wants to see you."

Of course she does, Sam thought and followed Ruby out of the room and down the hall.

SPN

Dean groaned and blinked blearily at the ray of sunlight shining right in his face.

Sitting up suddenly, Dean glanced at the bed beside his- as though the entire previous day had been a nightmare and Sam would be sleeping soundly in the bed next to his- only to be disappointed.

Sighing, the elder Winchester raked a hand through his short-cropped hair and stood.

He raised his hands over his head and stretched, groaning as the muscles in his back stretched.

Running his hands down his shirt- it wasn't too wrinkled- Dean caught a whiff of the scent of coffee and headed downstairs.

"Any luck?" he asked by way of greeting but Bobby shook his head, "Rufus caught wind of an electrical storm down in Mobile, Alabama but it was nothing supernatural."

Dean's shoulders slumped.

"We're not gonna stop looking," Bobby assured him and Dean nodded.

Stepping into the kitchen, Dean went to the cupboard and took out a ceramic mug.

"You want something to eat with yer coffee?" Bobby asked as Dean poured himself a cup.

The younger man shook his head, "I'm fine."

Bobby frowned but didn't press the matter.

Dean was distraught- understandable- but the grizzled hunter wanted the young man to remember he needed to take care of himself as well.

"Have a piece of toast, at least," Bobby suggested and was startled when Dean glared at him.

"Does Sam get breakfast?" he asked vehemently, "Huh? Is Sam getting toast and bacon and eggs? No! He's not; he's eating fucking dog food, Bobby! Dog food! And it's all my fault!"

The veteran hunter opened his mouth to speak but Dean interrupted him.

"I should never have left him, Bobby," Dean lamented, no longer angry but sad, "I should have stayed with him and I didn't."

The grizzled hunter's eyebrows knitted together.

"You didn't know, Dean," he said, "You didn't know Lilith was still alive."

Dean nodded, "I know… I know I didn't… I'm sorry Bobby… I just…"

The grizzled hunter raised his hand, "I understand. No harm done."

Dean nodded and guzzled down the coffee he'd poured for himself in one long swallow.

SPN

Lilith smiled as Sam stepped into the doorway of the master bedroom.

"Thank you, Ruby," she said and turned her gaze on Sam.

"Don't be shy," Lilith cooed and beckoned Sam forward.

The young man, his head bowed low, crept forward, scared.

Sam startled when the door closed behind him and he heard Lilith chuckle.

"Come here, Sam," she encouraged and Sam sank onto the mattress beside the demon.

Lilith raised a hand and patted the young man's head, her fingers playing with his hair.

Sam sat ramrod straight, terrified even to breathe.

The demon's fingers trailed lower, now at the nape of his neck, now between his shoulder blades, until they began trailing along the lash marks the whip had made, the scars raised and red.

"Oh come on, Sam," Lilith murmured, her lips close to his ear, "You know you want me. Don't deny it."

Sam shook his head, his eyes beginning to burn. Lilith stood and stood in front of the young man. She wasn't wearing any clothes.

Lilith leaned forward so that her face was only inches from Sam's, her breath warm- almost hot- against his.

She reached down with one hand, hooking her fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers. Her hand moved lower and she grinned at the reaction in Sam.

"See?" She whispered, biting her lip, "I knew it."

W

Sam closed his eyes, his bangs plastered to his brow with sweat.

Lilith stood up and stretched lithely, smirking. She dressed herself and peered down at the young man lying naked on the bed.

"You know, there's a saying humans have that I've always kind of admired," she said, "Do you know what that might be?"

Sam didn't react. Lilith shrugged and continued.

"Share and share alike," the demon continued, "What's mine is yours and all that. So selfless, don't you think? So altruistic."

"Ruby is one of my most loyal followers," the demon queen continued, unperturbed by Sam's lack of attention.

"She's been with me from the very beginning," Lilith told Sam, "We're almost like sisters, in a way."

The demon leaned over the bed, smiling down at Sam.

"I admire such loyalty," she said softly, "And I always reward it."

The demon leaned down and kissed Sam on the brow, more like a parent than anything, and left the room.

Sam opened his eyes and sat up. He glanced at the door and froze when it opened once more, Ruby stepping into the room.

The demon smiled wolfishly at Sam and began shedding her clothes.

SPN

Dean paced irritably across the front porch, over and over again.

Bobby was just inside, sitting at his desk, telephone firmly planted against his ear, trying to find out if any hunter he knew had seen signs of demons.

There was nothing. No supernatural electrical storms, crop failures or two-headed calves being born.

Dean cleared his throat and rubbed his neck. His voice was raw from shouting futilely at the sky, demanding that the dark-haired, blue-eyed angel appear again and help him find his brother.

The day was rapidly growing late and still Sam was out there somewhere, being tortured unmercifully by Lilith and her cronies.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean murmured, "I'm trying, Sammy, I'm trying to find you."

Bobby opened the front door and Dean turned expectantly to him but the grizzled hunter shook his head.

"You want something to eat?" he asked and Dean hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah," he muttered and stepped inside.

"Anything?" Dean asked, "Even a tidbit?"

Bobby sighed and shook his head, "Nothing."

"I guess I should have expected that," Dean muttered.

"You still trying to call down that angel?" the grizzled hunter asked and Dean shrugged, "What's the use? He's not coming down."

Bobby frowned; knowing nothing he said would make the young man feel any better.

Sighing, the veteran hunter turned away from him, "Let's just get something to eat, son and start again."

SPN

Sam pressed his forehead against the plywood board covering the window in his room. He clenched his eyes closed and struggled not to cry.

He felt so lost, so alone.

He was nothing, he had no name, he was a piece of property.

Lilith was never going to let him go.

He was only a plaything for the demon queen and her followers. Forever.

SPN

Dean looked up as Bobby's telephone ring and the grizzled hunter jumped on the device. It was growing late in the evening and Dean was starting to think no one would be able to help him but then the phone call heartened him.

"Yeah?" Bobby greeted.

Dean watched the older hunter expectantly- anxiously- and hoped- prayed- that whoever Bobby was talking to had good news.

"Really?" Bobby asked, "No… Really? Yer sure?"

The hunter paused as he listened.

"Don't be pulling my leg," he growled, "I am not in the mood."

"Okay, okay," Bobby relented, "I got it."

The grizzled hunter hung up the phone and met Dean's gaze.

"Friend of mine said that Lusk, Wyoming just had a major electrical storm with hail the size o' baseballs falling from the sky," Bobby told him.

Dean stood up instantly, "Let's go!"

Bobby held up a hand, "Hold on. Dean, we need to think about this. It could very well be a run-of-the-mill demon sign and have nothing to do with Lilith."

Dean sighed, "Yeah… Yeah… I know."

Bobby raked a hand through his thinning red hair, "'Course, we could get lucky and catch one of the bastards and question it, see if it knows anything about Lilith or your brother's whereabouts."

Dean looked up and nodded, satisfied with that answer.

The ride to Lusk would be almost seven and a half hours and Dean could not wait to arrive and perhaps be one step closer to finding his brother.

SPN

"Dean…" Sam muttered, tossing in his sleep, "Dean…"

The young man groaned and rolled over onto his side, frowning though he remained unconscious.

"Dean…" Sam whimpered, "Dean…"

The young man's breath hitched and he groaned again.

"Dean!" Sam called, one hand moving on its own accord as though to reach out to someone- his brother- before dropping down onto the carpet again, "Dean! DEAN! DEAN! No!"

Sam thrashed in his sleep, the nightmare gripping him tight as he continued to call out in desperation.

The door to his bedroom was thrown open, Lilith silhouetted in its frame.

"Shut up!" the demon shrieked, "Shut up! Shut up!"

Sam startled, shocked by the unpleasant awakening and backed into the corner, hands over his head fearfully.

"You're never going to see your brother again! Never!" Lilith screamed, "You might as well forget him! You're mine! Mine!"

Sam clenched his eyes shut and tears of terror squeezed out from beneath them.

"You're mine and I can do with you whatever I like!" Lilith shouted at him, her chest heaving.

Slowly, Sam raised his head, careful not to look directly at the demon's face.

Although Lilith seemed calmer, she still was not finished.

"I had hoped that by now you would realize that, Sam," she said, "I had hoped that giving you to Ruby would cement that idea."

Sam started to shake fearfully. He had no idea what Lilith was going to do to him but and he was terrified of her punishment.

The demon queen turned and peered out the doorway, "Eric, come here, would you?"

Lilith smiled as a male demon stepped into the room.

"Sam," she said sweetly, "This is Eric. Be nice to him."

Sam's mouth opened in horror as Lilith stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. He pressed his back tight into the corner as the male demon grinned toothily and began walking forward.

SPN

Lilith smiled to herself as Sam started screaming. She was certain Sam would now realize- and accept- the position he was in for good.

SPN

Castiel smiled as he watched Kate and Adam Milligan walk side-by-side to the car and climb into it. They were going to a late-night matinée at a local movie theatre.

The mother and son pulled out of the driveway and headed down the road, blissfully unaware of their approaching destiny.

The angel startled when Arcite appeared in front of him.

"What is the matter?" he asked his sibling.

"Do you not hear it?" the blond angel asked, head tilted to one side.

"Hear what, brother?" Castiel asked.

"Dean Winchester is calling for you," Arcite answered.

Castiel frowned and gazed at his brother, seeking an explanation.

"I… went to see Dean Winchester and Robert Singer," Arcite, "I was just curious to see them."

"Did you see Samuel?"

The younger angel shook his head, "No, I could not even sense him. Even after watching his brother for a time."

"Please do not say anything to Uriel," Arcite begged, "He will be very angry if he finds out I went to see Dean Winchester and his friend."

"Dean Winchester is calling for me?" Castiel asked, returning to his original question.

Arcite nodded nervously.

Castiel frowned; he had been so focused on the Milligans that he had drowned out the hunter's call.

"You helped the Winchesters once already," Arcite said anxiously, "Why would you not do so again?"

Castiel stared at his brother, "I cannot enrage Uriel again."

Arcite's eyes widened, "You disobeyed your orders before."

Castiel took a few steps away from his brother, thinking.

Turning, he looked at Arcite.

"I believed that we were meant to help humans," his brother said, "Not destroy them."

Castiel met his sibling's eyes and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Black Sabbath song.


	16. New Damage

Lilith walked down the hallway and opened the door to the room Sam was in. The young man was lying on his side with his knees drawn up to his chest and he arms wrapped around his legs.

"Sam," the demon said softly and the human's eyes opened but otherwise he remained still.

Lilith crouched down before him. She reached out and brushed the young man's hair away from his brow.

"I hope now you understand," she told him quietly, "I know you miss your brother but you are never going to see him again. It will be better to forget about him, you see?"

Sam, without lifting his gaze, nodded once.

"Good," Lilith said and laid a hand against the young man's cheek, "Don't let me hear you speaking his name again."

Barely audible, Sam answered, "Yes, Mistress."

SPN

Dean had squirmed and sighed and griped all the way to Lusk, Wyoming.

Couldn't Bobby drive any faster?

The seven and a half-hour trip seemed to take forever. Dean had been torn between praying that there would be a demon there that would know Lilith's whereabouts and telling himself not to get his hopes up.

The two hunters arrived in the small town of Lusk, close to the border, late at night when the inhabitants should have been fast asleep. Dean and Bobby were somewhat surprised to find the town's small police force and squadron of firefighters working to repair the damage done to the main stretch of road as a result of the storm.

Bobby slowed down and a clean-shaven cop, who looked to be around Sam's age, approached the car.

"What happened?" the veteran hunter asked, feigning ignorance.

"Electrical storm," the officer explained, "Power's out all through town. Also had some pretty big chunks of hale take out cars and windows on buildings."

Bobby nodded, "Is there any place we can stay for the night?"

The young cop scratched the back of his neck, "Sure, there's the Lilydale Motel just down the street but they don't have any power."

"Thanks," the veteran hunter said, "That'll be fine."

The officer nodded and Bobby and Dean drove slowly through town, staring at the broken store windows and baseball-sized pieces of hale still coating the sidewalks, refusing to melt in the balmy night air.

"How are we going to search for the demons with all those people out there?" Dean asked, uncharacteristically pessimistic.

Bobby smiled grimly at him as he pulled the car into the parking lot of a motel with beige brick walls and a green roof above all the rooms and the Office.

"Oh ye of little faith," the grizzled hunter commented, "If we can't go to the demons, we'll make 'em come to us."

Dean frowned, "Summon them?"

Bobby nodded.

"Isn't that dangerous? We could get a completely different one then who we're gunning for."

Again, Bobby nodded.

"If the ones who caused this storm are still in the area, we have a better chance of attracting them."

Dean's lips pursed together with uncertainty but he trusted Bobby.

W

The woman sitting at the desk in the Office, the room illuminated by fragrant candles, looked surprised to have a couple of guests but she didn't question Bobby and Dean's request for a room, in fact, she seemed happy to still be getting customers.

The lack of light in the hunters' motel room did not perturb them in the least. In fact, they welcomed it, as they would only need candles as sources of both light and as instruments in their summoning ritual.

Dean shoved the desk and chair out of the way to reveal a large enough space for Bobby to draw the pattern needed to attract the demon.

"A Devil's Trap would be good too," the younger man said in an offhand manner, "So the bastard can't get away once we summon him."

Bobby looked up from where he was kneeling, drawing the circle with a piece of white chalk onto the motel carpet, "That's the nice thing about this summoning circle. It also traps the buggers once they're summoned so they can't walk all over you once you have 'em."

"Hm," Dean replied, "Remind me to ask you to teach me to draw this one later."

Bobby chuckled and returned to his work.

W

Dean waited on pins and needles as Bobby began reciting the Latin chant that would help summon the demon, the words wholly not unlike those used in the exorcism he and Sam knew so well.

The room, dark but for the orange light of five candles sat on each of the points of the pentagram drawn on the carpet, seemed to grow even darker as Bobby spoke and the flames flickered though not breeze touched them.

Bobby closed the book he had been reading from with a snap.

"Now we wait," he stated with confidence and Dean stared expectantly at the circle.

Nothing happened. No demon appeared within its chalk-drawn lines.

"Maybe you said the words wrong," Dean suggested and Bobby glowered at him, opening his mouth to speak when a knock on the motel room door caused both men to jump.

"Who the hell is that?" Bobby asked irritably.

Dean shrugged, "Housekeeping?

The knock sounded again, more urgent this time and Dean moved forward, reassured by the feeling of the Colt hidden in his jacket pocket.

Opening the door, Dean was shocked- and disappointed- at the sight of a woman with wavy black hair, brown eyes and lisp painted bright red with lipstick.

"Sorry Sweetheart," the young hunter commented, "Wrong room."

The young woman smiled and her brown eyes turned completely black, "Actually, Dean, I'd say I picked the right one."

The hunter grabbed the gun from his pocket and pointed it between the demon's eyes, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now, bitch."

The demon didn't even flinch, "Because you and Grizzly Addams called me and I have a feeling you wouldn't waste your precious ammo on little ol' me."

Dean didn't lower the weapon but nodded, "You're the one who caused the storm?"

The demon laughed, "No, those guys are long gone."

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Then what do you want?"

"I know where Lilith is," the woman said and now Dean did lower the Colt.

"I thought that'd get your attention," the demon said and slid past Dean, into the room.

The elder Winchester closed the door, "Do I know you?"

The demon grinned, "I know, I had to change hosts thanks to you. But… this one isn't so bad, so, no hard feelings."

Bobby frowned and Dean struggled to place the demon when it suddenly came to him, "Meg?"

"You got it," she praised.

"Why are you here? Why do you want to help us?" Dean asked.

"Oh, don't worry," Meg commented, "I'm not about to join the Dean Winchester Fan Club anytime soon. I heard about your brother's deal and knew you can hardly function without your better half so I decided to see if I could lend a hand."

"Uh huh," Bobby replied skeptically, "That's it?"

"How do you know about Sammy's deal?" Dean asked, preventing Meg from engaging Bobby.

The demon rolled her eyes, "C'mon Dean, everyone knows about Sam's deal. It's not like the Queen Bitch is keeping it a secret. She's actually pretty proud of the fact that she has one of the infamous Winchester brothers under her thumb."

Anger swelled up in Dean and he struggled to push it back down; the idea that Lilith would practically announce to all hellspawn that Sam was hers, pissed him off to no end.

"I take it you don't fancy Lilith?" Bobby asked while Dean fumed and Meg nodded.

"She's a piece in a destiny that would have all demons liquidated," the dark-haired demon told them, "The complete opposite of my father's vision."

Dean rolled his eyes but Bobby caught onto the comment, "What destiny?"

Meg's black eyes widened, "Oh? You don't know?"

Dean's face was blank, reflecting Bobby's question.

The demon grinned toothily, "This is so exciting!"

"Just tell us!" Dean barked and Meg cleared her throat.

"You were meant to go to Hell, Dean," Meg explained, "It wasn't just a fluke that Sam died."

The young man's eyes pinched as the memory of that awful night came back to him; the rain pouring down, kneeling in the cold, slick mud as Sam's hot blood pooled onto the ground.

"You were supposed to sell your soul to a Crossroads' demon and go to Hell," Meg continued, "You were the Righteous Man."

"Righteous Man?" Bobby asked, confused.

Meg sighed, "Sinners go to Hell, yes? Bad people: murderers, pedophiles, rapists, those kinds of humans, not good people. Well, Dean here had done nothing really wrong. He sold his soul but still had a clean slate. He wasn't damned by committing any sins. He was still 'righteous'. Now, according to prophecy, the Righteous Man- this good person- would have to shed blood in Hell in order to break the first Seal."

"Seal, what are you talking about?" Dean asked, thinking of the sea lions he and Sam had seen at the aquarium they'd gone to when they were still very young, before their father had become consumed by revenge.

"Read Revelations," Meg sighed, "Seals must be broken in order… in the correct order to kick start the Apocalypse."

"What?!" Dean asked, stunned.

Meg nodded, "You'd have to shed blood in Hell to start the chain of events that would lead up to the End Of Days."

"Where is this going?" Bobby asked.

"Lilith also had her own part to play in this," Meg continued, "She was supposed to help the Apocalypse along, break more Seals once the First one had been taken care of."

"Why wouldn't she do that? What does this have to do with Sam?" Dean asked, becoming impatient.

"Lilith, as well as charged with breaking the other Seals, was the key to the big surprise at the end. Once all the Seals were broken, Lucifer was supposed to rise and burn the Earth."

Dean and Bobby stared at the demon, horrified.

"Our arrogant queen, however, was not going to live to get to see the fun part," Meg informed them smugly, "She, just as you are tied to the first Seal, is tied to the Final one. Killing her is the Last Seal."

Dean and Bobby's mouths dropped open.

"If you weren't in Hell you couldn't break the first Seal," Meg said, coming back to the beginning and tying it altogether, "That's why Lilith finally decided to answer Sam's pleas for a deal. She didn't want you becoming the Righteous Man."

Bobby nodded, "Okay… that makes sense, but what about Sam? Why not give him the regular ten years every shmuck who makes a deal gets?"

Meg smiled, "Lilith just isn't a pretty face, she's also smart. She knew that the others- the ones who want the Apocalypse, who actually orchestrated the whole thing- would find a loophole and that loophole just happened to be Sam. If Sam bit the dust like everyone else who had made a deal, even if it was ten years later, he was sure to become the Righteous Man. Alive, that can't happen, can it?"

That made sense, Dean admitted. With both him and Sam still Topside, there'd be no chance of either of them 'shedding blood in Hell'.

"Who actually wants the Apocalypse? If you demons don't?" Dean asked.

"Who do you think? The angels," Meg answered and Dean took a step back, feeling as though the demon had punched him in the gut.

"What?" he wheezed; shocked.

"If the Apocalypse happens," Meg said, "All demons get wiped out along with humans. The angels have no one to contend with for Earth."

Bobby met Dean's eyes, "That may be why that angel didn't kill Lilith as he said he did. They think they can still have their Apocalypse."

Dean didn't know what to say. This was all too much information, too fast.

"You… You said you could help us find Sam?" he asked instead, mouth dry and heart pounding.

Meg nodded, no longer smiling now.

"That angel of yours couldn't help you even if he did come down," she told the hunters, "Lilith's covered her hideout in wards against the likes of him. Angels can't find it or even sense your brother while he's inside."

"Where is it?" Dean asked, eyes glinting.

Meg laughed, "I'm not going to just tell you! If I do that, you might exorcise me… or kill me."

Dean glowered.

"Relax," Meg soothed, "I'm not going to try anything. I want Lilith dead just as badly as you do."

There was a beat of tense silence before Dean spoke.

"Fine," he growled, "But if I find out you're tricking us, I will do more than just send you back to Hell in a hand basket."

Meg laid a hand across her chest, giving the Boy Scout salute with her other hand, "I'll behave. I promise."

W

After Dean and Bobby quickly cleaned up- Meg watched- and checking out of their motel room, the trio climbed into the veteran hunter's car and headed out of Lusk.

SPN

Bobby hated the idea of working with a demon, especially when that demon was Meg- who had caused so much trouble for the Winchester brothers in the past- but he, as the saying goes grinned and bore it.

He trusted Meg about as far as he could throw her but he knew that she was the only one who could lead them to Sam so he held his tongue, if only for Dean's sake.

The demon claimed the younger Winchester was in Joliet, Illinois, which unfortunately was almost a fifteen-hour drive from Lusk. The grizzled hunter could almost feel the tension pouring off Dean in waves.

Bobby glanced at the young man from the corner of his eye, "It'll be okay, Son."

From behind them Meg snorted but didn't say anything.

"Do you know how many other demons are at Lilith's hideout?" Bobby asked, trying to gather as much information as possible and to cut some of the silence in the car.

The dark-haired demon shrugged, "How should I know? I've never been inside. I just know where it is. Could just be her and Sammy or it could have a dozen of Lilith's followers chilling there."

Dean scowled, "That's real helpful, Meg. And don't call him Sammy."

The demon's expression told the hunters she was insulted and she crossed her arms over her chest, "Hey! At least I told you where he was and am actually coming with you! I don't have to, you know. I'm sorry I'm not one of that bitch's lackeys, licking the mud off her boots and all that shit."

Dean looked to Bobby; Meg seemed truly offended by his suggestion that she would know the inner workings of Lilith's most trusted minions. Not that he was about to apologize, Bobby knew better and wasn't wrong when Dean chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Meg asked irritably.

Dean shrugged, "It's just strange to think that there are enemies even among demons. I thought you all pretty much were working towards the one goal of making peoples' lives hell."

Meg flipped her host's hair over her shoulder and looked away from him.

This is going to be a long drive, Bobby thought and pressed his foot down a little harder on the gas pedal.

SPN

Dean's eyes burned and he yawned widely. He grabbed the energy drink he had bought at a gas station they had stopped at- they hadn't had a choice- and guzzled down the rest of the warm liquid.

Bobby, sitting beside him, clutching the steering wheel as if for dear life, didn't look much better than Dean. The only one who appeared not to be affected by their sleepless night was Meg.

Dean was just about to close his eyes and rest- he needed it and he'd be better for it if he did manage a nap- when Meg let out a startled shriek, followed quickly by Bobby's shout of surprise and the car jerked to a halt.

Dean craned his neck to see what had caused the demon's reaction and felt both shock and anger fill him at the sight of the black-haired, trench coat-wearing angel sitting in the seat beside Meg.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean snarled and reached out to grab the creature's lapels, "You bastard!"

"Dean!" Bobby cried and tugged at the younger man, attempting to pull his hands away.

Dean fisted his hands in the fabric of the angel's coat and shook him, "Sammy's gone! Abducted! And it's your fault!"

The angel did not appear to be distressed by Dean's rough handling and simply placed his hands on the hunter's wrists gently drawing the human's hands away.

"I understand you are angry, Dean," the angel said calmly, "And I am deserving of your anger. I have made mistakes but I am here now, to repair what damage I have done."

Dean's face twisted in a scowl and he shook his head.

"Why? Why didn't you kill her? Why didn't you tell me she was still alive?"

The angel didn't even blink, "My superiors… and I… believed that Lilith was still of use to us. We believed, erroneously, I now realize, that she could be fooled."

The angel glanced around at the car's occupants, "I now know that Lilith cannot be underestimated. She does not want to die and so she will do everything in her power to prevent the Apocalypse."

"That's great," Dean commented, "But are you really here to help or do you just want to jerk us around again?"

Now the angel's blue eyes widened until they were very round and rather childlike, "There will be pain and sorrow- and not just for the human race- if Lilith is allowed to continue on as she has… as plans are allowed to proceed as they are being envisioned."

Dean didn't speak, the angel's words and their sincerity, disturbed him.

"I will help you rescue your brother from the demon's clutches," Castiel assured the older sibling.

Dean nodded.

"I'm glad that you're prepared to end this bitch once and for all," he said, "Because this time she is not going to get away with what she's done to Sammy."

The angel tilted its head.

"I've been thinking about it since she nabbed Sam the second time," Dean said, speaking not only to Castiel but to Bobby as well, "And I think I can kill Lilith."

"She is too strong-" the angel began but Dean interrupted.

"But she doesn't have this," he told Castiel and pulled out the Colt, "There's enough bullets left and its said to be able to kill anything. It killed Azazel so why shouldn't it be able to take Lilith down?"

Dean turned his hazel eyes on the angel, "You can help us get Sammy- and escape if we need to- but I am going to kill Lilith."

The angel looked like he wanted to speak- perhaps once again remind Dean of the futility of using the Colt against the First Demon- but wisely only nodded.

"Would you like me to destroy this demon or do you want to shoot it?" the angel asked and Dean raised his eyebrows, looking from Castiel and then to Meg.

"She's with us," Dean told the angel, "She's showing us where Lilith is."

Castiel nodded and Dean guessed that even if he could, the angel wouldn't kill Meg because he didn't know where Sam was at all and- like it or not- they were all depending on the demon right now.

SPN

Castiel knew he needed to go to Dean Winchester and make amends, help the young man find his sibling and put an end to the other angels' plans for the Apocalypse once and for all.

Uriel and many of Castiel's other siblings believed that after the Apocalypse had ended- after Michael rose victorious- there would be paradise on Earth such as had not been seen since before the creation of humankind.

But that was a lie.

There would be no peace.

If the humans and demons- all their enemies were wiped out- who then, would the angels turn against?

Already Castiel had experienced the animosity of the archangel Uriel- his sibling- and knew that it would not be tempered with the destruction of 'mud-monkeys' and 'abominations'.

The dark-haired angel had spent centuries watching the humans of many countries and although they fought one another and enslaved each other and killed their neighbours… there was still good there.

Despite their faults, humans were inherently good and kind. They simply were trying to make sense of their world with no guidance from their Father, just as the angels were trying to do.

Castiel also knew that Uriel was ruthless and would think nothing of punishing the humans intertwined with the Apocalypse for their disobedience. If the dark-haired angel helped Dean rescue his brother again, that may go unnoticed but that left Adam and his mother still in danger.

Deciding what the best course of action would be, Castiel waited quietly for the Milligans to return from the cinema.

SPN

Kate Milligan stifled a burst of laughter with the palm of her hand, shaking her head at her son.

"I can't believe you convinced me to see that movie!" she exclaimed, "If I had known what it was about…"

Adam smiled, "C'mon Mom, you liked it."

Kate rolled her eyes and gasped when she looked at her wristwatch, "Oh my goodness! I have to get to bed, I have an early shift tomorrow!"

The blonde-haired woman slipped the strap of her purse from her shoulder and shrugged out of her jacket.

"And you should get some sleep to," she commented to her son.

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, this time in exasperation, "It's summer."

"Hm, just as well you-" Kate began to say when suddenly a man appeared in the front hall of the house along with the Milligans.

Kate screamed and Adam jumped, both with shocked and scared expressions on their faces.

"Do not be alarmed," the strange man said, "I am not here to harm either of you."

"How did you get in here?!" Kate asked, reaching out to grab Adam's arm.

"I am an angel of the Lord," the man told them in a matter-of-fact tone.

The Milligans stared at the dark-haired, self-proclaimed angel in disbelief.

"Get out! I'll call the police!" Kate shouted, gripping her son's arm tightly.

The angel was unmoved by the threat.

"I am here to help you," he told them as if the mother had not spoken, "Please listen to me."

"Why do we need help?" Adam asked and tried to step forward- blue eyes showing curiosity instead of uncertainty now- but was held firmly in place by his mother's arm.

"There are forces at work that mean to do you and your mother injury," the angel told them, "I do not believe it is safe for you to remain here."

"What do you mean?" Kate asked, "Who wants to hurt us? We can't leave!"

The angel turned to Adam, "If you wish to keep your mother safe, please listen to what I have to say."

"Mom," the young man said, "Maybe… maybe we should listen… I don't think he's lying."

"But… Adam…" Kate tried but it was clear that her son wasn't listening to her.

"You are threatened by powerful forces which seek to tear your family apart," the angel told them somberly, "And I cannot stand by and allow that to happen."

"What do we have to do?" Adam asked anxiously; he was gripping his mother's hand in his own.

"I can assist you in hiding," the angel told them, "But you will also have to leave here. Locate yourself to a different state or even country."

Kate's mouth dropped open in shock, "Leave the country?"

The angel nodded, "It may come to that, yes."

"Is it really that bad?" Adam asked.

"Your enemies will not stop until they find you."

"How… how can you help us hide?" Kate asked.

Instead of answering, the angel stepped forward, one hand raised, palm outward.

"What are you doing?" Kate demanded, tugging her teenaged son back with her.

"This will shield you from the sight of your enemies," the dark-haired man informed the Milligans and laid his hand on Adam's chest.

Kate jumped when her son did, sucking in a shocked breath and grunting in pain.

"Adam!"

"I'm okay, Mom," he assured her.

The angel looked to the blonde, "Please."

Kate, head high but clearly nervous, stepped out from behind her son. She held her breath as the angel placed his hand on her chest, across her collarbone and she gasped when she felt a jolt run through her abdomen.

"What was that?" she asked, rubbing at the place above her heart, her eyes pricking unconsciously.

"I carved Enochian sigils onto your ribs that will keep you invisible to your enemies eyes," the angel explained.

"Cool," Adam exclaimed.

"Adam," Kate chastised- this was serious- and the young man looked chagrinned.

"When should we leave?" she asked the angel.

"As soon as is possible," he told her, "Bring only what is essential and tell no one where you are going."

The woman nodded, her lips pursed in a grim line.

At first she had been afraid of this stranger- this angel- but something told her that she should trust him.

"Thank you," she said, "Thank you so much."

The angel inclined his head but said nothing. Kate grabbed her son's wrist and led him towards the stairs.

W

Kate looked up expectantly when she headed down the staircase, overnight bag in her arms and frowned slightly when she saw no sign of the angel.

SPN

"This is it?" Dean asked skeptically as Meg instructed Bobby to turn the car onto a residential street.

They were in the middle of American suburbia; the last place Dean expected the Queen of Hell to have her Headquarters.

Dean stared at the houses they passed and the people- women gardening, men mowing lawns, and kids riding bikes down the sidewalk or drawing with chalk in the driveways- and shook his head.

"How can no one notice there's a demon living right next door?" he muttered, mostly to himself.

Meg however, answered, "Humans only see what they want to."

The group was silent as Bobby drove slowly down the street. Dean's heart was pounding nervously and his mouth was dry; his hands though, were steady and he knew that he'd be able to kill Lilith when the time came.

"Stop," Meg instructed and Dean glanced out the side window at the house standing before them.

It looked about as normal as any of the other ones on the street. The only difference was that one of the upper windows had been covered with a large piece of plywood from the inside. Other than that, the lawn had been tended to, there was no mail piling up on the porch and no clear sign that evil resided within.

"I'm here, Sammy," Dean whispered, "I'm coming for ya."

SPN

Lilith smiled down at Sam, her long fingers smoothing his bangs away from his brow.

The demon chuckled and bent down, her lips brushing the boy's forehead.

"Sam-" the demon queen began but was interrupted when the bedroom door was shoved open, Eric standing on the threshold.

"What?!" Lilith looked up and snapped angrily at her minion.

"We have a problem," he told her, his tone nervous.

Lilith narrowed her eyes at her follower before glancing down at Sam. His eyes were half-closed and glazed; he barely seemed to notice the male demon's intrusion or Lilith's irritation- or perhaps he did and he just was afraid to react- but either way the young man wasn't going anywhere.

Sighing, the demon queen got up off the bed and pulled on the dress she had been wearing earlier. She followed Eric out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"What is it?" Lilith asked Eric, irritated that he'd taken her attention away from Sam.

SPN

The front door wasn't locked. And why would it be, the demons didn't have to worry about anyone breaking and entering.

Bobby, Dean and Meg stepped into the front hall and peered around, all three on high alert, ready for an attack.

None came.

Dean took the Colt out and thumbed the safety off, ready to kill any enemies who dared try and keep him from Sam.

The angel remained outside- unable to enter the house- ready to stop any demon who might attempt to escape.

Dean wanted nothing more than to tear the house apart until he found his brother.

The sound of footsteps caught Dean's attention and he looked towards the staircase immediately off of the front hallway. A woman was standing on the steps; she had curly blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She was wearing a green summer dress with white polka dots.

Dean knew instantly that this was Lilith. He raised the Colt and pointed it right at the demon queen.

"Dean!" Lilith exclaimed, "What a surprise!"

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, eyes focused only on the demon.

"What are you going to do with that pea-shooter?" Lilith asked, clearly not intimidated in the least, "You think you can stop me?"

Dean pulled the hammer back, his hand steady.

"I'm going to kill you, Dean, I'm going to snap your neck like a toothpick," the demon told him, "And then I am going to make poor Sammy wish he'd never been bo-"

The shot rang out loudly, ricocheting off the plaster walls, making the glass in the windows shake and leaving silence in its wake. A dark, round hole appeared in the center of Lilith's forehead. There was a crackle of lightning and firelight flared up inside the demon, beneath the host's pale skin before she crumbled to the steps, unmoving.

Heart hammering in his chest, Dean stared at the dead demon queen.

"Sammy!" he shouted and ran up the steps, kicking Lilith's lifeless body down the staircase.

"Sammy!" Dean called again, eyes darting around frantically.

He caught sight of a man standing at one end of the hall, looking stunned. Dean aimed the Colt at him; knowing this was a demon but the man's mouth opened wide and thick black smoke pushed itself out and swirled up towards the ceiling, the host's body falling to the floor.

Now that their boss was a goner Dean guessed the lower-level demons would rather run then fight.

That suited him just fine.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction from the man's body.

He opened a door and peered into the room. It was empty and there was a large sheet of plywood against one wall- covering a window, Dean realized- this was were Lilith was holding Sam.

So where was he?

"SAMMY!" Dean called loudly and kept moving down the hallway.

The eldest Winchester shoved open the door to the master bedroom and he instantly saw his brother.

"Sam," he breathed and stepped into the room, heart clenched in pain.

His brother was lying on the rumpled bed wearing only his boxer shorts.

"Sammy," Dean said softly, "Sam?"

The younger brother didn't react and Dean's heart began to speed up with fear. He stepped further into the room and walked around the bed so that he was facing his brother.

"Sammy?" Dean crouched down in front of his brother. Sam's eyes were at half-mast and glazed, their green depths so dark they were almost black.

"Sammy?" Dean said and reached out to touch his sibling's shoulder.

The older brother's fingers had barely touched Sam's thin shoulder when the young man flinched and whimpered, eyes squeezing shut.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean said, "It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. It's me, I'm here."

Sam's eyes opened slowly but did not clear.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean muttered, "C'mon man, we've gotta go."

Sam didn't even look at him. He just continued to stare into nothing.

"She's dead, Sammy," Dean told his brother, "Lilith's dead. I killed her myself. You're safe Sammy. That bitch can't hurt you anymore."

Approaching footsteps alerted Dean to the fact that they weren't alone. He rose and pointed the Colt at the figure that approached.

"Relax," Meg commented, "It's just me."

Dean lowered the gun and peered concernedly at his brother.

"Something's wrong with him," he said, "He's… It's like he's not even hearing me. Like he doesn't know I'm here."

The dark-haired demon smiled lopsided, "You just have to know how to talk to him."

Dean frowned, confused.

"Get up!" Meg barked suddenly, "We're leaving."

Dean glared daggers at the demon but her words and tone had affected Sam. He sat up and stood, shoulders slumped, head lowered.

Sam followed Meg from the room, Dean bringing up the rear.

Bobby met them at the bottom of the steps. Dean noticed a young woman with straight blonde-hair lying in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Was that it?" Dean asked and Bobby nodded.

"Demon that was possessing her ran once it realized Lilith was dead," the grizzled hunter told him, "Is your brother alright?"

Dean shook his head, "He will be."

"I don't know about you boys but I'd rather not be here once the cavalry arrives, if you know what I mean," Meg announced lazily.

"Okay," Dean said, reaching out to grip Sam's shoulder but then hesitated, "Make sure those two are alright."

Meg scowled, "Me? Do I look like Mother Theresa?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, "I just shot the First Demon; do you really think I'd have a second thought about killing you?"

The black-haired demon raised her hands in surrender, "Fine."

The two older hunters watched as Meg walked towards the girl lying sprawled in the doorway to the kitchen and gently tapped her cheek in an attempt to rouse her.

"C'mon, son," Bobby said and touched Sam's arm, causing the young man to cringe back and whimper.

Dean's eyes met the veteran hunter's; "Let's just get him in the car."

Careful not to touch Sam, the two older hunters led him out the door and onto the front lawn.

Dean grew nervous once they had stepped out into the bright late afternoon light. There were still a lot of people surrounding them; people who might think their appearance strange- suspicious even- and call the police.

The angel, Castiel, moved towards them and spoke as though he'd read Dean's thoughts, "They will see nothing but another house. You are invisible to their eyes."

Bobby stepped forward and opened the trunk, pulling out a thick, blue, green and yellow tartan blanket, "For Sam."

Dean took the offered blanket and hesitantly wrapped it around his brother's shoulders, careful not to touch him.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asked, knowing it was a stupid question, but needing to hear something from his brother.

Bobby unlocked the car doors and Dean helped Sam into the backseat. As soon as he was inside, the youngest Winchester laid down across the bench seat, blanket pulled tight around him.

"Dean," Castiel said, his voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah?" the hunter asked.

"I am sorry," the angel apologized.

Before Dean could respond, the celestial being vanished into thin air as though he had never been there in the first place.

"C'mon Bobby, let's go home," Dean commented, shaking his head and sitting down in the front passenger's seat.

The young man sighed and peered over his shoulder at his sibling.

"It'll be okay, Sammy," Dean told his brother, "It's all going to be okay now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Soundgarden song.


	17. Homeward Bound

Bobby drove quickly, both he and Dean wanting only to reach the security of the Salvage Yard.

Every minute or so the eldest Winchester would peer over his shoulder at his brother, speaking reassurances to him and frowning when he received no response.

"He'll be okay, Dean," the grizzled hunter told the older Winchester, "He'll start perking up in no time once he's home."

Dean nodded and sighed, concern for his brother plain on his face.

"Maybe you should try and get some rest, son," Bobby suggested, "It's still a bit of a drive to Sioux Falls."

Dean shook his head, "I'm okay."

Bobby nodded; knowing that what Dean really meant was that he'd rest once he knew Sam was alright.

"Think we'll see that angel of yours again?" the grizzled hunter asked the younger man.

Dean shrugged, "Dunno. Don't care."

Bobby grunted a response. He watched as the elder Winchester looked into the backseat again.

"Sammy?" Dean murmured, "Hey, Sammy?"

Bobby quickly glanced over his own shoulder and saw that the younger brother's eyes were closed.

"Let 'im be, Dean," he said, "He looks like he could use the rest."

SPN

Dean's heart was breaking for his brother.

Even though Sam had only been Lilith's prisoner again for a handful of days, it appeared as though all the progress he had made had been dashed to pieces.

Sam lay curled in the backseat; eyes shut tight, his breathing shallow and rapid. Dean wasn't even sure if Sam knew he'd been rescued.

Dean wanted nothing more than to gather Sam into his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay but he couldn't even do that. Sam shied away from him when he'd attempted to touch him, an action that worried Dean.

"What do you think that bitch did to him?" the young man asked his friend. Dean already had an idea- seeing Sam lying on that bed, wearing nothing but his underwear- but he wanted Bobby to say it.

The grizzled hunter shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"You see him," Dean growled, "What do you think?"

Bobby licked his lips, not taking his eyes from the road.

"He doesn't appear to be hurt," he began slowly, "Not like before. Did you see any injuries?"

Dean shook his head.

Bobby didn't continue, his brow was furrowed deeply as though he were thinking hard about his next words.

He opened his mouth to speak- Dean bit his lip in anticipation of his friend's opinion- when the car suddenly ground to a halt in the middle of the road.

"What the hell?" Bobby growled and turned the key, the engine stalling.

"Did we run out of gas?" Dean asked anxiously but even he could see the gauge and knew that wasn't the reason for the malfunction.

The younger hunter peered out the car's windshield. Bobby had opted to take the less-traveled roads out of Joliet and as far as Dean could tell they were completely alone on the road.

Dean was just about to check on his brother- see if the sudden stop had woken Sam- when the car doors opened and he was roughly pulled from the vehicle by an invisible force, his seatbelt snapping from the pressure.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted as he landed heavily on the hot asphalt and climbed to his hands and knees, searching for his sibling.

From the driver's side of the car, Dean heard Bobby cursing and calling Sam's name. Grabbing the car door, Dean pulled himself up and saw his brother sprawled on the ground on the left side of the car.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and began making his way around the front of the car when a figure appeared before his brother.

The man was tall and dark-skinned. He wore a exquisitely tailored grey suit and a livid expression. The man's brown eyes smoldered as he took in Sam- completely ignoring the veteran hunter sitting within easy reach of the young man- and strode forward.

"You!" the man snarled, "You filthy, disgusting beast! You ruined everything! EVERYTHING!"

Dean reached the opposite side of the car- feeling as though he were moving in slow motion- and stumbled into Bobby, falling to his knees beside the older hunter in his shock.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, staring at his brother.

Sam was crouched in front of the man, shaking hands held above his head, clearly terrified.

"SAM!" Dean shouted as loud as he could and staggered to his feet.

"Abomination!" the man snarled and raised a hand towards Sam, palm outward and Dean knew that he intended to kill his brother.

"Uriel!" a familiar voice called out and Dean looked up to see Castiel standing behind the man threatening Sam.

The dark-skinned man turned, "I will deal with you later."

The trench coat-wearing angel did not look intimidated by the threat in the least; instead he stepped even closer to the taller man.

"You will not harm this boy, Uriel," he told the man soberly.

"Do not attempt to stop me," the dark-skinned man warned and turned towards Sam once more.

Castiel, although smaller then Uriel, was faster as well and he moved with lightning speed. Dean gaped as he watched the dark-haired angel produce a long silver blade from the inside of his coat and reach up to press it against Uriel's thick neck.

"Do not make me hurt you, brother," Castiel said.

The other angel only grunted a response, one hand outstretched towards the younger Winchester, ready to smite.

"It is over," Castiel continued, "There is nothing you can do."

"This abomination must die," Uriel ground out, "It was his actions that have brought about the end of the Apocalypse and our chance for true paradise!"

"Our Father swore that He is the one who may exact vengeance, Uriel," Castiel told his sibling, "If He meant for Sam Winchester to die then the boy would already be so. It is not for you to pass the judgment that is the sole responsibility of our Father."

Realizing that Castiel was not going to be swayed, Uriel lowered his arm and vanished into thin air.

"Sammy!" Dean cried and ran to his brother's side.

Dropping to his knees beside his sibling, Dean peered into Sam's face before the younger man could lower his head. Sam's face was pale as milk, his eyes red-rimmed and dark.

"Sammy?" Dean murmured and laid his fingers against his brother's shoulder.

The younger man whimpered and cringed back, away from Dean, frightened.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean saw that the angel was still there, watching them sadly.

"Can you help him?" Dean asked, "Heal him?"

Castiel stepped forward, "I can heal physical injuries."

Dean swallowed and nodded, "Do it. Please."

The angel moved forward until he was standing right beside Dean. He reached out one hand and laid it palm-down on the crown of Sam's head.

Sam whimpered again but didn't pull away, perhaps thinking that if the angel meant to hurt him he wouldn't be able to stop it.

Dean watched as if by magic, the scars that riddled Sam's body- souvenirs from his year as Lilith's slave- were erased, leaving his skin unmarred.

"Sammy?" Dean said hopefully and placed his hand beneath his brother's chin, trying to draw his head up.

The younger man flinched away and wrapped his arms around his middle.

Tears pricked Dean's eyes at the state his brother was in and he glanced up at the angel, "What did she do to him?"

Castiel, his blue eyes sorrowful didn't answer but instead suggested that he transport them all to Sioux Falls.

Dean, with much cajoling and encouragement, managed to get Sam into the backseat of the car without having to touch him and then climbed into the passenger's seat, Bobby at the wheel. The angel stood at the front of the car and laid a hand on the hood. The hunter felt the same strange dislocated sensation he'd felt the first time Castiel had teleported him to the mansion where Lilith had been holding Sam but this time at least their destination wasn't so grim.

Dean couldn't help but smile as the familiar sight of the Salvage Yard materialized before him, the car appearing in the driveway.

Bobby shook his grizzled head, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

The angel stared at them from outside the vehicle and Dean quickly climbed from the front passenger's seat and opened the door for his brother.

"C'mon Sammy," he murmured soothingly, "We're home."

Sam slowly, nervously exited the backseat of the car and followed Dean towards the porch. He gripped two corners of Bobby's tartan blanket in his fist, creating a kind of cape with it.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean encouraged, "C'mon, c'mon."

Bobby unlocked the front door and Sam followed his brother miserably inside. Not wanting Sam out of his sight just then, Dean led his brother into the living room and had him lay down on the couch. It might not have been the most comfortable piece of furniture but Sam did hesitate. He sat down first, glancing around the room with a bowed head before laying on his side, curling his legs up until he was in the fetal position.

Dean thought about going up to the guest bedroom to get another blanket and a couple of pillows but decided against it; Sam would be comfortable enough and besides, he didn't want to frighten his brother by hovering too much- even though that was all he wanted to do at the moment.

Bobby and Castiel were in the kitchen- the grizzled hunter making coffee- and they both looked up when Dean stepped into the room.

Dean sighed and sat down at the table.

"So I guess that Uriel guy was one of the angels who wanted the Apocalypse?" he asked Castiel.

The dark-haired angel nodded, "Yes, Uriel's dislike of humans is well known and he was a prime supporter of the Apocalypse. He believed that once all the humans and demons were gone we would finally have paradise."

Dean nodded; hoping they'd never have to meet that particular angel again.

All three were silent for a long moment before Dean repeated the question he had asked before arriving back at the Salvage Yard.

"What did Lilith do to Sam?"

"Dean, maybe-" Bobby began but the eldest Winchester interrupted.

"We have to know! I have to know what that bitch did to him! Whatever it is, I can handle it. I have to… for Sam's sake," Dean told the older man defiantly.

Bobby didn't say anything but nodded slowly.

"If you don't want to hear then you can feel free to leave the room but I need to know," Dean told his friend and waited but Bobby didn't move.

Dean and Bobby both looked to the angel expectantly. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the starburst clock on the wall and the steady dripping of coffee into the pot.

"Lilith forced your brother to perform intercourse with her," Castiel told them.

Dean didn't react for a moment and then his face turned red with anger.

"She what!?" he growled and the angel repeated what he'd previously said as though Dean hadn't heard him.

"She… she…" the older brother stammered, unable to get the words out. He looked at Bobby and the hunter appeared equally shocked.

Of course, Dean knew, he should have known that's what had happened- or something similar- after seeing Sam on that bed, wearing only his boxers. Dean had known- he was sure he had- but hadn't even wanted to think about something like that because it was so awful.

Dean swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Is… Is that all?" he asked, wishing he could just keep it at that and not say anything else.

The angel shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Would your rather I not tell you everything-"

"No," Dean replied, "I have to know. I can't help Sammy unless I know everything."

Shooting Lilith was the Colt had been too quick a death for that bitch. Now Dean wished he could somehow bring her back so he could kill her nice and slow.

"Lilith also allowed her followers to have sexual intercourse with your brother," Castiel informed the hunters before pausing, "Female… and male."

Dean felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. He grabbed the edge of the table even though he was sitting down and felt his gorge rise.

"Dean? Dean, are you alright?" Bobby asked and he felt the older man's hand on his shoulder.

"Oh my God," Dean breathed and closed his eyes.

Bobby's hand squeezed comfortingly before leaving his shoulder and Dean heard the grizzled hunter pouring a cup of coffee.

It wasn't enough that Lilith had to demean and dehumanize Sam on her own, no, she had to pass him around to all her lackeys.

"Here," Bobby said and shoved the hot ceramic mug into Dean's hands, "Drink this."

The eldest Winchester looked up at his friend and saw Bobby's eyes were moist and his face pale beneath his ruddy beard.

"You wished to know everything," Castiel told Dean and the young man nodded, "Yeah… Yeah, I know. I just… I guess after what Lilith did to Sam before I didn't expect her to use him as a… a…"

"I believe the term you are searching for is 'sex slave'," Castiel offered and Dean shuddered.

Bobby, holding his own cup of coffee, cleared his throat, "Thank you for helping us again."

Dean nodded, grateful for a change of subject and took a sip of coffee, trying not to picture his brother as he'd seen him when he'd opened the door to the master bedroom of the house in Joliet. Sam was safe and he was going to get better again. He'd already come a long way in just a few short weeks after being held as Lilith's prisoner for a year, he'd recover quickly this time as well.

"Is there anything we can do to keep any other angels from finding us?" Bobby asked, "Maybe paint sigils on the doors or something like Lilith had?"

Castiel nodded, "I can show you how to draw them yes but I can also help you hide when you are not here."

Dean looked up curiously.

"How?" he asked.

"I can carve sigils into your ribs which will keep you invisible from my siblings as you move about," the angel explained and Dean cringed slightly.

"Does it hurt?" he asked and Bobby raised an eyebrow at him.

The older brother tilted his head in the direction of the living room to show that he wasn't concerned about the pain himself but for his sibling.

"Sammy's already been through enough already," he said quietly.

"The sensation may be strange but it is not exactly painful," Castiel told them, "Or that is what I've come to believe."

W

Dean's brow furrowed as he watched Sam sleep.

He was sitting in one of Bobby's wingback chairs while Castiel showed the grizzled hunter how to protect the Salvage Yard from the prying eyes of angels.

Sam frowned and whimpered slightly with the beginnings of a nightmare.

"Sammy," Dean called softly, trying to ease his brother into wakefulness, "Sammy, wake up."

Instead of slowly bringing his brother back to consciousness, the younger man startled awake, eyes darting around fearfully before lowering and he curled up tight.

"Hey," Dean murmured, leaning forward towards his brother, "It's okay, Sammy, it's just me."

Sam didn't respond, didn't even look at him but Dean wasn't put off.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up, okay?" Dean asked, "It'll make you feel better."

Sam hesitated, clearly nervous and fiddled with the edge of the blanket.

Dean bit his lip, "Please."

That one word seemed to trigger something in Sam and he stood up. Dean smiled and raised a hand to shepherd his brother in the right direction, careful not to touch him.

Sam climbed the stairs like a man on his way to gallows with Dean following him. Once they were both on the landing, Dean began heading towards the bathroom while Sam turned and started towards the guest bedroom.

"No, this way Sammy," Dean said and reached out, gripping his brother's elbow.

Sam cringed, pulling his arm away and whimpered.

"I'm sorry!" Dean exclaimed, releasing his brother instantly, kicking himself for scaring him, "I didn't mean to!"

"This way," Dean said in a calmer tone and Sam followed him into the bathroom. He closed the door lightly and grabbed a towel and washcloth and sat them on the closed toilet lid. Next he brushed aside the shower curtain and turned on the tap, checking the temperature of the water with his hand until he judged it warm enough.

Turning around Dean startled. Sam had already shed the tartan blanket and his boxers. Knowing that his brother was shy, Dean kept his eyes focused on Sam's bowed head.

"Okay, Sammy," he said, "Why don't you get started and I'll go get you some clothes?"

Obediently, Sam moved past Dean, pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the shower.

"I'll be right back," Dean assured him and left the room, leaving the door ajar.

Making his way down the hall, Dean sighed and paused in the doorway of the guest bedroom, running a hand through his short-cropped hair.

"He'll be okay," Dean murmured before stepping into the room and grabbing some clothes for his brother.

Returning to the bathroom, Dean set the clothes on the counter.

"Sammy? You okay?"

There was no response; not that Dean expected Sam to answer.

"Sam?" Dean called again and he heard his brother mumbled something too quiet for him to hear.

"I got you some clothes," he told his sibling.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asked and then smacked himself on the forehead because of course Sam was hungry, probably having had nothing to eat but dog food for the past few days.

"How about I make you some soup when we go back downstairs?" Dean said, "Tomato and rice, okay?

Sam didn't respond and all was quiet for a moment before there was a loud squeak and a muffled thump from inside the shower.

"Sam!" Dean called and pulled the curtain back to see his brother sitting on the bottom of the shower, hair plastered to his face and shoulders shaking.

Not caring that Sam didn't want to be touched right then, Dean reached out and brushed his brother's bangs away from his face, cursing silently when he saw a gash across his sibling's brow.

"Aw Sammy," Dean murmured and climbed into the shower and gathered his brother into his arms.

Sam whimpered and struggled, pushing his fists against Dean's chest but he had nowhere to go and quickly gave in, slumping bonelessly in his brother's arms.

Dean laid a hand against the back of his brother's head and Sam bowed his head until it was pressed into Dean's chest.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured, "It's okay now."

W

Sam gobbled the soup gratefully, barely letting it cool before beginning to spoon it into his mouth.

Dean watched his brother, feeling both oddly sad and happy at the same time- Sam was eating which was a good thing but the fact that he was acting as though he hadn't eaten in days made his brother furious- but he kept his emotions from his sibling, instead sipping on a fresh cup of coffee.

Sam looked a lot better. His damp hair was still tangled and knotted- he'd refused to let Dean touch him again after his brother had helped him from the shower- but he was wearing a clean pair of blue jogging pants and an old grey hoodie. The cut on his brow was red but wasn't bleeding anymore and didn't seem to be bothering Sam so Dean had decided he wouldn't try and put gauze on it.

The eldest Winchester looked up when Bobby and Castiel entered the kitchen.

"The Salvage Yard's gonna be harder to break into than Fort Knox, once we get this wards set up," the grizzled hunter announced happily.

"That's great," Dean said, smiling.

"Would you like me to ward you now?" the angel asked and Dean frowned for a moment.

"After Sam's done eating, okay?"

The angel nodded, "Very well."

When Sam was finished the first bowl of soup, Dean gave him a second one without comment.

He met Bobby's gaze and smiled.

W

"I'll go first," Dean offered once Sam was finished with the soup and all three hunters were in the living room. Sam was sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around his middle.

Castiel nodded and laid his hand against Dean's chest, palm down.

The young man held his breath and jumped when he felt a shock go through his body- not exactly painful- but not pleasant.

The angel preformed the same action on Bobby and then turned to the youngest Winchester.

"I am not going to hurt you, Samuel," Castiel said as he approached the young man.

The angel gently lowered Sam's arms with one hand while laying his other against the boy's chest.

Sam flinched and whimpered and then jumped, making a strangled yelping sound before calming. Dean instantly went to his side.

"You are now as safe as it is possible to be," Castiel told them, "There is nothing more I can do for you."

Dean looked up at him and nodded.

"I must return to Heaven," the angel told them, "And explain my actions."

Dean cringed, "You're going to need all the luck you can get if the others are anything like Uriel."

The angel tilted his head, "I will be speaking to Michael directly, and although he believed in the Apocalypse he did not agree with Uriel's view of the human species. I am hoping he will be receptive to what I have to say and I will not be imprisoned for treason."

"Uh… sure," Dean commented, "Good luck with that."

The angel nodded and vanished, leaving the three men alone.

Bobby looked at the time, and although it was still fairly early asked Dean if he wanted to get Sam settled in for some rest.

"I need someone to help me put these wards up."

SPN

Bobby sighed and dropped the paintbrush back into the canister, admiring his work.

The sigil didn't look too bad, he thought, at least it would work and that was the main point.

Dean made his way over towards him, silhouetted in the early evening light.

"Hey Bobby," he asked and pulled a paper free of the stack Castiel had drawn the sigils on.

"Hm?" the grizzled hunter grunted in response.

"What's this one for? It's not with the others?"

Bobby looked at the paper Dean held out to him and took it.

"This one isn't a ward to keep us invisible," he told the younger man, "It's for emergencies… if an angel does manage to find us."

"What does it do?" Dean asked curiously, dropping his own paintbrush into the can along with Bobby's.

"Well, Castiel explained that it kind of banishes angels," Bobby said slowly, "For a little while at least."

"Cool," Dean commented, "Do you think we should paint some of these around the house too?"

Bobby shook his head, "Castiel said they work best when they're fresh and… he also said you can't use paint."

Dean's brow furrowed, "What do you use then? Holy water or something?"

Bobby shook his head, "Blood. Human blood."

Dean cringed a little bit and took the paper back from Bobby, putting it in the stack with the others.

"We'd better keep these safe," he commented and handed all the papers out to the grizzled hunter, who took them.

"I'll lock them in my desk," the grizzled hunter said. All of his most important papers were kept in the drawers of his large desk in the living room. Everyone knew never to go snooping around in the drawers and if they did, well, they'd never do it again.

Bobby suddenly smiled at the memory of a toddler-aged Sam Winchester finding an open drawer and taking out a bunch of papers, scribbling all over them with Crayons while Dean had been helping the veteran hunter in the kitchen with lunch.

Bobby of course hadn't been pleased to find his papers ruined- luckily the most important ones were locked in drawers away from curious little fingers- and had given the youngest Winchester a good smack on the bottom and sent him upstairs without lunch.

Bobby never liked being harsh with the boys, especially when they were young- and especially with Sam- and so the toddler had been allowed to come back down a half an hour later, Bobby vowing to buy some colouring books for him the next time they went out.

"How's yer brother?" Bobby asked Dean as the older Winchester now picked up the paint can and walked beside him towards the house.

Dean shrugged, "Had a bit of a breakdown in the shower… but he's okay now. He was sleeping when we left."

Bobby nodded and sighed; trying hard not to think of what Sam had gone through in the last few days.

"I'm scared, Bobby," Dean said quietly, in confidence, "I'm scared that Sam's done for good… that Lilith's broken him for good."

Bobby's grey eyes narrowed, "Sam's strong. He was getting better, sure, this is a bit of a speed bump in his recovery but I don't doubt that he'll pull through. You Winchesters always manage to anyways."

Dean ran his free hand through his short hair, "I don't even know if he knows he's safe now. He doesn't let anyone touch him and all I want to do is hug him and never let him go again."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, "Would you let people touch you?"

Dean's shoulders slumped and he shuddered, "No, I guess not."

Bobby stopped walking and so did Dean, the younger man turning to him, "Give it time, son. Like before. This all takes time."

The older brother nodded, "I know. I just don't want to wait. I don't want Sam to be in pain anymore."

Bobby blinked moisture from his eyes, "I know. Me too, son. But we can't rush this. We have to tread carefully, even more than before now."

Dean swallowed and nodded again, his expression on the verge of collapse.

"I wish Chester was still here," he commented and began walking towards the house again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Simon and Garfunkel song.


	18. Stand By Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some non-con. It is not overly graphic but I thought I should warn you all it is coming.

Dean gratefully took the cup of coffee Bobby offered him and sipped at the hot liquid.

Dean was just thinking of going upstairs to check on his brother when he turned and came face-to-face with a black-haired demon.

Meg smiled, "I like what you've done with the place, boys, very anti-angel."

Bobby spluttered on his coffee, "What the- How'd you get in here?"

"I have my ways," Meg replied cryptically but then rolled her eyes at the skeptical look both hunters were giving her, "This place isn't as safe as you'd like to think."

"Well, now we don't have to worry about angels attacking us," Dean said and the demon nodded.

"That's half the battle, Champ," Meg commented, patting him on the shoulder, "If I were you though, I'd build myself one of those nifty panic rooms and lock myself in it for the next hundred years."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked rudely.

"Lilith's followers are not too happy you killed their leader, Dean," Meg told him, "They're probably on their way here now to tear you apart."

The younger man turned to Bobby.

"I've got salt and holy water coming out the whazoo," the grizzled hunter said, "And I know how to draw a pretty mean Devil's Trap."

Dean nodded, "And the Colt still has some bullets."

Meg looked surprised, "You really want to waste your ammo on some low-level demons? Why not save it for the big boys?"

Dean scowled at her, "Because we don't have a choice, Meg! That gun is the only thing I know to kill demons!"

Meg just smiled, "Second thing."

Dean stared at her, "What?"

"It's the second thing you know of that can kill demons," she elaborated and pulled a knife from behind her back.

The knife was long and serrated with a bone handle; its blade had strange symbols carved into it.

"Took this off that little girl demon before her host woke up," Meg said and held the weapon up, "I never thought I'd ever see one of these let alone hold it."

"What is it?" Bobby asked curiously.

"This," Meg said, "Kills demons."

"What?" Dean asked, shocked, "Really?"

"Mmmhmm," Meg replied, "And if you want it, Dean-o, I'll gladly give it to you… for a price."

"How about I just take it?" Dean suggested.

"Hey! Give me some credit here," Meg exclaimed, "I helped you find your brother and did as you asked and got those two saps to safety."

"What do you want then?" Dean asked irritably. He really didn't have time to play games with Meg.

"Your word," the demon said, "That's it. Your word that if we ever cross paths again I don't find myself on the receiving end of that Colt of yours."

Dean sighed, "Fine. Whatever. Just give me the knife."

Meg smiled, flipped the knife around so that she was holding the handle out to Dean and the hunter took it.

"I'd start getting ready now," the demon advised and vanished.

Bobby took the blade from Dean and the younger man headed upstairs to the guest room where his brother was.

SPN

"Sam Winchester was only attempting to save his brother," Castiel told Michael, "He had no prior knowledge of his or Dean's role in the Apocalypse. He still does not, I believe."

Castiel was nervous, of course he was, anyone would be when speaking directly to the Archangel Michael. Despite his older brother's desire to see the Apocalypse play out as destined, Castiel also knew Michael to be one of the most reasonable angels, if a little short-tempered. He just hoped now he would not ignite that famed temper in his brother.

"Sam Winchester was only driven to make a deal out of love for his brother," Castiel said carefully, "He appeared just as shocked that the demons agreed to deal after being turned now so many times."

Michael nodded and turned to Uriel, "And where were you?"

The other archangel opened his mouth then closed it again.

"I was following orders, Brother," Uriel finally answered, "Not following around a filthy abomina-"

The angel stopped when Michael had a hand up.

"Sam Winchester made his deal completely of his own free will," Castiel continued, "He was not coerced into it by anyone."

Michael nodded, "And you did not interfere?"

Castiel shook his head, "I continued with my orders, observing humans, all of them and only periodically turned my attention to the Winchesters."

Michael looked at Uriel, "What were you doing during this time, Brother?"

"That… human… ruined our chances at paradise, Brother! Lilith would not allow either him or his sibling to become the Righteous Man in Hell."

Castiel looked down, knowing just how much Michael also desired said paradise but hoping his rational mind would prevail.

"What were you doing, Uriel?" Michael repeated the question, his tone impatient.

"The Winchesters' father had another son," Uriel said, "A bastard but as he comes from the same blood line as them I believed he could be used if the other two could not."

Castiel felt anger rise up in his chest. Humans were not to be used! They were not to be toyed and played with! They were creatures their Father had created and did not deserve anything but love, as their Father had instructed.

"Adam Milligan knows nothing of the world of the supernatural," Castiel interrupted, "He is only a boy. He was going to become a doctor and help others and Uriel wished to tear that all away from him.'

Michael said nothing.

"How is the life of one human greater than our destiny, Brother?" Uriel argued, "Would you feel guilty if one of the Winchesters had been sent to Hell? I think not."

"When did you become involved, Castiel?" Michael asked.

"Sam Winchester had been in Lilith's clutches for a year," the dark-haired angel said, "After watching both him and Dean and seeing each suffer in his own way… I could not simply sit by and allow any more pain to happen to either brother.

"I assisted Dean in rescuing his brother but I did not interfere with the plans for the Apocalypse. I sent Lilith back to Hell instead of destroying her… as I should have."

"He's working against us!" Uriel spat, "He loves those humans more than us!"

"Be silent!" Michael snapped and the other archangel was, from shock.

"Lilith once again abducted Sam Winchester," Castiel continued, "Continuing his torture."

"I was not the one who kill her," he said, "Dean Winchester killed Lilith as was only right. I did not try to interfere, I only cautioned him on how ineffectual his method may be but I was wrong. Lilith is now dead."

Michael nodded, brow furrowed in thought.

"You did disobey direct orders, Castiel," he reminded him, "By becoming involved with the Winchester brothers."

The lower-ranking angel bowed his head.

"But you Uriel," Michael started, "Seemed to believe it was alright to involve individuals who should not have been."

"I was only thinking of you, Brother, of us," Uriel tried but once again was silenced.

"We will find another way," Michael announced, "To finally enter the paradise our Father promised us."

Castiel waited with bated breath to hear his fate. He was certain he would be punished for his involvement with the Winchesters- however trivial- and waited for his sentence.

"Since you have already insisted upon inserting yourself in the lives of the Winchesters," Michael said, "You may as well continue to watch over them."

Castiel looked up, shocked, his blue eyes wide.

"Assist them in any way necessary," the archangel finished and turned away from Castiel, his attention now on Uriel.

Castiel knew Michael's motives were not completely altruistic. Dean Winchester was to be his vessel and he was certain the archangel would be displeased if any harm came to the young man.

The angel vanished, leaving Uriel and Michael alone, and returned to Bobby Singer's Salvage Yard, appearing just outside the gate.

SPN

Sam appeared to be sleeping peacefully. He was curled up on the bed furthest from the door; his breathing slow and even though his brow was furrowed. Dean watched his sibling for a moment to make sure he wasn't having a nightmare before he took the blanket off his own bed and draped it over Sam.

The younger Winchester whimpered in his sleep, scrunching tighter into a ball beneath the blanket.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said quietly, "I'm right here."

He moved past Sam's bed and peered out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the demons Meg had said were probably already on their way. Instead, he caught sight of a dark-haired, trench coat-clad figure standing just beyond the chain-link gate. Dean's mouth turned down in a frown of his own for a moment until he recognized the angel.

The hunter crossed the guest bedroom and closed the door as he stepped into the hallway. He hurried down the stairs and into the living room. Bobby looked up, his expression concerned.

"Something wrong?" the grizzled hunter asked.

"The angel is back," Dean replied and opened the front door, Bobby following him as he stepped out into the yard.

"Hey!" Dean called and the angel stared at him as he approached. The hunter wasn't sure if he was glad to see the celestial being or not. Castiel had helped him rescue Sam from Lilith's clutches but he hadn't killed the demon bitch and lied to Dean about it, but then again, he did save Sam from getting killed by Uriel and hadn't tried to stop Dean from shooting Lilith other than to argue that using the Colt might not work.

"Why are you here?" Dean asked, standing close to the fence but keeping the gate shut, "I thought you had to plead your case to your boss or something?"

The angel inclined his head, "I explained my actions to Michael, yes, and he was most understanding. He insisted I return and assist you and your brother."

Dean blinked, "Oh… uh… okay."

"The wards prevent me from entering this property," Castiel reminded him and Dean nodded, embarrassed that he'd already forgotten.

"Should we break some so you can?" Bobby suggested but the angel shook his head, "That would not be wise, Robert. I will remain here."

The grizzled hunter nodded.

"Is there anything you need help with immediately?" Castiel asked and the two hunters looked at each other.

"Meg- the demon who helped us find Sam- she told us that some of Lilith's followers might be on their way here right now," Dean explained, "Do you know of any fancy wards to keep demons out?"

"I do not," Castiel replied, "Beyond using salt and holy water. I will remain vigilant for any pending attack though."

Dean nodded, "We'll help."

The angel shook his head, "It is best you go inside. It is safer there. If you must, you may lay down salt and holy water to keep demons from entering the house."

Dean frowned. He wanted to fight, not cower in Bobby's house like some frightened civilian and he was just about to say so when the grizzled hunter spoke first:

"Sam's gonna need you with him if we do come under attack."

Dean, chagrinned, nodded. He hadn't thought of that. It felt as though his brother didn't want to be anywhere near him at the moment, flinching from his touch- his comfort- but Dean knew that wasn't true.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"I will be fine," Castiel assured them, "I do not fear demons."

"C'mon Son," Bobby murmured and placed a calloused hand on Dean's shoulder, turning him away, "Let's get ready."

W

Bobby insisted he barricade the house by himself and that Dean go back upstairs to his brother. Dean wanted to protest, saying that at least now he was in the same building as his brother and with him helping it would take less time to get the house ready but the grizzled hunter put his foot down.

"Don't make me drag you up there by the short and curlies," Bobby growled and the younger man backed down.

"You've got that knife?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded, "And the Colt, just in case."

The older man nodded and took his trusty .12-gauge shotgun from where it sat in an umbrella stand by the door.

"Full o' rock salt," Bobby told him, "Won't kill the host but it'll hopefully repel the demon inside."

"Just be careful," Dean asked of his friend and Bobby nodded, handing him a saltshaker and a small bottle of holy water.

Dean climbed the stairs and peered into the guest bedroom. Sam was still fast asleep. Stepping quietly into the room, the older brother closed the door before opening the lid of the shaker and laying down a thick line of salt across the door. Crossing the room, Dean repeated the gesture at the windowsill, peering out the closed window at the angel still standing outside the Salvage Yard gate.

Sighing, Dean turned away from the window and sat down on his bed, facing his brother. He didn't know how long it would take for the demons to arrive, or hell, if they even would come looking for blood. Maybe Meg was just pulling their leg. He wouldn't put it past the demon to do that. She wasn't exactly trustworthy.

Dean looked up when he heard Sam whimper in his sleep and kick out beneath the blankets.

"It's okay, Sammy," the older brother muttered, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

A bright white flash of light from outside caught Dean's attention and he rushed to the window, careful not to disturb the salt line. His mouth opened in shock when he saw two-dozen men and women facing Castiel. The angel held one hand out before him, palm out but was clearly outnumbered.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore and saw that even now some of the demons were breaking away to try and find a less protected part of the property to enter.

"Meg wasn't lying," Dean said to himself and hurried to the guest bedroom's door, opening it carefully, "Hey, Bobby! We've got company!"

Dean listened intently and heard the grizzled hunter call a reply; "You just stay upstairs with yer brother! I'll be fine!"

The elder Winchester closed the door again and paced in front of it for a moment, seeing more flashes of white light from the corner of his eye coming in the direction of the front gate.

A loud bang- a shotgun blast- from downstairs made Dean jump and he opened the door again, about to rush to help Bobby but he paused.

If he left now a demon could slink upstairs and get Sam. Dean was not going to let that happen.

Closing the door again- reluctantly- Dean turned to his brother; Sam woken by the sound of fighting inside the house.

The younger Winchester was shaking furiously, the blankets pulled up to his shoulders, eyes wide.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, "Sammy, hey, it's okay. I'm right here. Nothing's going to happen to you."

Sam lowered his head, not daring to look at Dean and the older brother sighed. All he wanted to do was gather his brother up in his arms and hug him. But he knew he couldn't and it killed him.

A second shotgun blast made both Winchesters jump, Sam whimpering fearfully, and Dean swore out loud, praying that Bobby was alright.

The older brother looked up sharply when the bedroom door slammed open and there stood a man with pitch black eyes.

"Winchester," the man said and smiled.

Before Dean could even move he was lifted up off the bed by an invisible force and crashed into the dresser, shattering the mirror sitting on top.

Dean fell to the floor, groaning in pain, and struggled onto his elbows. The demon began to step forward but stopped abruptly, his entrance barred by the salt line across the door.

"No!" he snarled and lifted a hand, raising Dean's duffle bag from where it sat at the end of his bed and dragging it across the floor and over the line of salt, smearing it.

Dean fought to sit up, realizing that this demon was stronger than he and Bobby had anticipated. Not all of Lilith's loyalists were low-level demons then.

The male demon smirked as he stepped into the room, eyes on Dean.

The older brother glanced across the room from the corner of his eye and saw his sibling still sitting on the bed, his expression one of terror as he pressed his back against the bed's headboard as though trying to melt into it.

Dean knew he had to keep the demon's attention focused on him. So far, it didn't seem to notice that it wasn't just the two of them in the room and he was going to keep it that way until he got a chance to kill the bastard.

"Hey," Dean growled, "Is that the best you got? I know girls who hit harder than you!"

The demon stepped towards Dean, "You'll be begging for death when I'm finished with you."

The hunter closed his eyes and waited for the pain to come. Dean cried out as the demon clenched its hand into a fist, the young man feeling as though his insides were being squeezed in a vice.

Dean's eyes snapped open when he heard Sam whimper and the pain abruptly vanished.

"No," the older brother breathed as the demon turned to look at Sam.

The man took a step towards Sam and Dean fought frantically to get up and stop the demon.

"Run!" Dean shouted, realizing that the monster's power still had him pinned, "Run, Sam!"

Sam, however, seemed frozen with fear. He shrank back as the demon approached, whimpering.

"Get away from him!" Dean shouted, "Don't you dare touch him!"

The demon however, wasn't listening to Dean. It stopped right in front of Sam and smiled cruelly down at him.

"Isn't this a treat," the man said, "I get to play with Lilith's toy."

The demon raised a hand and the blankets were flung away to land on the far side of the room in a heap, leaving Sam exposed.

Something seemed to click in the younger Winchester and he tried to scramble away from the demon, desperately trying to get beyond the monster's reach.

He wasn't fast enough however; the demon reached out and without even having to use his powers, grabbed the hood of Sam's sweater and pulled him back.

"Where do you think you're going?" the man asked, a hungry smile on his lips.

"Let him go!" Dean shouted, his heart pounding in his chest, "It's me you want! I killed Lilith! Let him be!"

The demon glanced over at Dean, "I'll deal with you in a moment."

Dean watched helpless as the demon shoved Sam onto his stomach on the bed. He could hear his brother whimpering and crying and felt like screaming, unable to do a thing to help his sibling.

"Bobby!" Dean cried, "BOBBY"

The older hunter didn't answer, whether he was dead or unconscious or just too busy fighting his own demon, Dean didn't know, but he wished he'd appear and blow this bastard to Kingdom Come.

"Please," Dean begged, "Please… don't hurt him. Leave him alone."

The demon glanced over his shoulder and grinned at Dean as he climbed onto the bed, straddling his brother.

"Sam!" Dean called, "Sammy!"

The hunter heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down and closed his eyes, nausea boiling in his stomach.

There was no sound for a moment, other then Sam's whimpering cries and then Dean heard his brother howl in pain.

Dean clenched his teeth together, wishing he could block out the horrible sounds of his brother's suffering and the demon's pleasure but he couldn't even move; he knew those sounds would be with him for the rest of his life.

Dean felt hot tears coursing down his face and he only opened his eyes again when he heard the demon's feet hit the floorboards.

The monster smirked and did up his fly, not even giving Sam a second glance. The younger Winchester remained on the bed, unmoving, the boxer shorts and blue jogging pants Dean had picked out for him earlier now around his thighs.

"S-Sammy?" Dean called, afraid that his brother was dead, "S-Sam?"

The demon chuckled, "I didn't kill him."

Dean sucked in a shaky breath, grateful for that at least and glared daggers at the demon.

"I think I'll get rid of you and then have him again."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean snarled, struggling as hard as he could to break the invisible bonds holding him still so he could kill the bastard who had dared touch his brother.

The sound of boots stomping up the stairs distracted both hunter and monster as Bobby appeared and stepped into the doorway of the guest bedroom. Without saying a word, the veteran hunter pointed his shotgun at the demon and pulled the trigger.

The man staggered backwards, one hand going to his chest. The rock salt hadn't expelled the demon- it was too powerful for that- but it had distracted it enough for its hold on Dean to ease and the young man to pull the Colt from the waistband of his jeans.

Before the demon could gather its bearings, Dean aimed the gun at its chest and fired, the shot exceptionally loud in the small bedroom. Orange flames danced beneath the host's skin for a moment before disappearing, leaving nothing but a neat hole in the man's chest.

The body dropped to the floor and in that instant Dean was up and rushing to his brother's side.

"Sam," Dean said and reached out with a trembling hand, placing his palm against his sibling's head, "Sammy?"

The younger man whimpered fearfully and Dean put his free hand against his mouth, fighting the urge not to puke.

"Jesus Christ," Bobby whispered, "Sam… That bastard didn't…"

Without looking away from his brother, Dean nodded.

"I… I couldn't stop h-him…" the younger hunter lamented, "Oh God, I couldn't do anything."

Dean turned when he heard Bobby moving and saw the veteran hunter picking up the blanket that had been thrown from Sam's bed.

"Cover 'im up, Dean," Bobby said and Dean took the blanket, pulling it up to Sam's shoulders to keep whatever dignity the young Winchester still had, intact.

"Are you gonna be okay here?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded.

"I'll clean up the mess downstairs and then come back for this 'un," the veteran hunter assured him and Dean dropped to his knees beside the bed, staring concernedly into his brother's face even as tears continued to stream down his own. Sam's eyes were open now, halfway but they were glazed and unfocused.

Dean didn't know what to do or say to his brother, he didn't know how he could comfort Sam; words seemed fickle and meaningless so he remained silent. Dean felt like a failure. It had been different knowing that Sam had been tortured while being held as Lilith's captive and slave, when he hadn't known where his sibling was but now, Dean had only been a few feet away and had been unable to prevent his brother from getting hurt.

The older Winchester sat, leaning his back against the nightstand that stood between the two beds. He sighed and raked both hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.

He knew he should go and help Bobby, or at least take care of the demon's host body that still lay on the floor, but Dean felt as if he had to look at it he would throw up.

Dean looked up when he heard Sam shift and saw that his brother's hand was sticking out from beneath the blanket. Dean glanced at his sibling and saw that his brother's eyes were open and although he wasn't looking at him, he didn't pull his hand back.

"Sam?" Dean asked and reached out tentatively.

Uncertain of how his brother would react; Dean didn't begrudge Sam for not wanting anyone to touch him- Dean would probably feel the same way if he had gone through what his sibling had- he hesitantly touched the younger man's fingers.

Dean smiled, fresh tears beginning to from his eyes, as Sam's fingers closed over his own in a strong grip.

Author's Note:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Ben E. King song.


	19. Remember Tomorrow

Sam was finally asleep.

His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, his grip on Dean's fingers lax.

The older Winchester hadn't wanted to disturb his brother by breaking contact with him- however tenuous- but he needed to get moving, he needed to help Bobby.

Slowly, Dean stood up and stretched, his muscles tense and tight from stress and being tossed bodily across the room earlier.

The young man glanced at the spot on the floor where only a few hours ago, the body of the demon-possessed man had lain. Now, there was no sign that it had been there at all, not even a drop of blood. Bobby had taken the corpse downstairs, dragging it with his hands beneath its armpits. Dean had wanted to help, had watched Bobby's grim task in silence but all the while Dean had wanted to get up off the floor beside the bed and partake in disposing of the body. But he didn't. He still felt nauseous even thinking about the demon and what it had done to Sam. So he remained seated, holding onto his brother's hand, letting his sibling know he was there for him, that he wasn't going to leave.

Peering over his shoulder, Dean saw that Sam had not moved except to pull his hand back underneath the cover of the blankets. He did not wake.

Making his way to the door, Dean left it open slightly as he stepped into the hallway and headed for the stairs.

The scent of fresh coffee wafted towards the hunter and he quickened his pace, eager for the hot, fortifying drink.

Bobby was already sitting at the kitchen table, steaming mug in front of him. He looked up tiredly as Dean stepped into the room but didn't bother to greet him in the usual fashion; nothing about this morning was good.

"How's 'e holding up?" the veteran hunter asked instead, as Dean poured himself some coffee.

The younger hunter shrugged, "Don't really know. He's sleeping right now."

Bobby nodded and sipped at his coffee. He must have stayed up all night cleaning up the mess in his house and getting rid of the bodies.

"How are you doing?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow at Dean.

The younger man didn't respond for a moment. He gulped down some of his coffee, then rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand.

"I… Damn it, Bobby! I just feel so guilty!" he lamented, setting his coffee cup down on the table so roughly some of the dark liquid sloshed over the rim.

"I was right there- right there- and I was useless! I couldn't do anything to stop it!" Dean growled angrily.

"And Sammy… I don't think I'm ever going to get the sound of him…. Or that fucking demon out of my head. Ever."

Bobby nodded sympathetically, "It wasn't your fault, you know. What happened to your brother. It wasn't your fault, Son."

Dean gazed at Bobby, his hazel eyes wide and moist, a good imitation of his sibling's 'puppy-eyes'.

"I'm the one who's supposed to protect him," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "I'm the one who's supposed to keep him safe."

Bobby stood and moved around the table, laying a rough, calloused hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'll bet Sam doesn't blame you," he told the older sibling, "From what I saw last night, he was glad you were there with him when it was over… but he doesn't blame you. You tried your damnedest to get to him and stop it and I know Sam knows it too."

Dean glanced at Bobby from the corner of his eyes and swallowed thickly. The older man was right. Sam didn't blame him for what that demon had done. So Dean shouldn't be blaming himself.

Sighing, Dean picked up his cup of coffee and took a long drink.

He knew that right now they had to be focusing on Sam's recovery.

Sam had been doing so well until Lilith had come for him again and Dean hoped- and prayed- that the past few days back in that bitch's clutches hadn't dashed all of his brother's progress to pieces for good.

Dean raked his free hand through his short hair. He couldn't get the picture of Sam, as he had been last night, out of his head; lying unmoving on the bed, his pants and boxers pulled down, his eyes glazed over and unfocused.

"Is that angel still here?" Dean asked suddenly.

Bobby nodded, surprised by Dean's question, "Hasn't left all night."

Without another word to the grizzled hunter, Dean turned and headed outside, walking purposefully.

Dean stopped at the fence, the angel watching him. The young man took a breath, trying to gather himself.

"Sam… got hurt last night," Dean began, unable to bring himself to actually describe what had occurred in the guest bedroom, "Badly."

The angel nodded, "I know, Dean. I am sorry."

"You know what happened?" Dean asked, surprised, and the angel stared at him with wide blue eyes, "Yes."

"Why?" Dean asked, "Why didn't you stop it? You're an angel! Sam might not have been hurt if you had stopped them!"

Dean recalled what he had seen the night before from the guest bedroom's window; Castiel fighting against a cadre of hellspawn while their fellows had had the sense to seek out weaker points in the Salvage Yard's defenses and make their way onto the property.

Castiel looked sadly at the young man, "Although I am an angel, I am only one. There were too many demons for me to contain and destroy by myself. If I had known what was going to happen to your brother I would have actively tried to prevent it."

Dean nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes, "Can you help him? Heal him, like you did after Uriel attacked us?"

The angel tilted his head slightly, "You know I cannot enter the Salvage Yard, the wards-"

Dean interrupted the celestial being; "We can break them, just this once!"

The angel shook his head, "Do you think that wise? The wards are in place to prevent your enemies from locating you and your brother. If they were broken, even for a short time, there may be a chance that you leave yourselves open to attack."

Dean frowned, "I'm willing to take that risk, for Sammy. Please, say you'll help him."

Castiel stared at the hunter for a long moment before nodding.

"I will heal Samuel's physical injuries," he told Dean, "But after that, the wards must be put back into place, for your protection."

Dean nodded, eagerly, showing his understanding. He turned to the closest ward- only a few feet away- and broke it with a gouge through the paint with the switchblade he kept in his pocket.

SPN

Bobby glanced up as Dean and the angel, Castiel, appeared in his kitchen.

"You hear to help Sam?"

The celestial being nodded and turned to Dean, "Your brother is still upstairs?"

"Yeah, he-" Dean began but his sentence was cut off as Castiel vanished.

Bobby's eyes met Dean's and the veteran hunter smiled thinly through his ruddy beard.

Both hunters jumped when the angel suddenly reappeared in the kitchen.

"Samuel's injuries are healed."

Dean nodded, "Thank you."

"Now please, replace the wards," Castiel said.

"I'll do it," Bobby volunteered, reaching out and giving Dean's shoulder a squeeze, "You stay with yer brother."

SPN

Dean looked up as Bobby stepped into the kitchen again.

"Are all the defenses in place?" the young man asked.

Bobby nodded, "The Salvage Yard is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

The grizzled hunter watched as Dean grabbed a loaf of bread from where Bobby kept it in the microwave and the toaster from the cupboard and set two pieces of bread in the appliance.

Now that Sam's wounds were healed, Dean could focus on getting his brother's other physical needs taken care of.

Once the bread was toasted enough, the older brother buttered both slices and sat them on a saucer.

"I'll be right back, Bobby," he told the grizzled hunter and left the kitchen.

W

Dean opened the door to the guest bedroom slowly, not wanting to startle his brother. He saw that Sam was still lying in bed as he'd been left, still and unresponsive to his brother's approach.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean called quietly as he stepped into the rom, "Are you awake?"

As he moved closer to the bed, the older sibling saw that indeed his brother's eyes were open though they were glazed and focused not on him, but on the wooden headboard.

"I made you some toast," Dean told Sam softly, holding up the saucer, "For breakfast, you know… You should really eat something."

Dean frowned when Sam gave no indication that he'd heard anything his brother had just said.

"Sammy?" Dean set the saucer on the nightstand between the beds and crouched down, "Are you feeling okay?"

The older brother cringed as soon as the words were out of his mouth; of course Sam wasn't feeling okay! What a stupid question!

"You feel up to eating something?" Dean asked instead, biting his lip, hoping his brother would react.

Sam closed his eyes and let out a barely audible sigh but other than that, it appeared as though he was deaf to his older brother's words.

"Sam? Sammy," Dean pressed and reached out carefully, wondering- hoping- that what had happened the night before hadn't been some sort of a fluke and his brother wouldn't shy away from him.

Dean's hand hovered over Sam's shoulder but then he dropped it to his side; no, best not to tempt fate.

Standing, Dean ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and sighed.

"I'll be back," he assured his sibling, "Don't worry."

Turning, Dean made his way from the room, leaving the toast where it was in case Sam felt he needed privacy to eat.

W

Dean saw Bobby lift an eyebrow as he stepped into the kitchen.

"How'd it go?" the grizzled hunter asked, "Did 'e eat?"

Dean shook his head, "Something's wrong, Bobby. He's worse than before."

Bobby frowned, "You sure?"

"He just stared into space! Acted like he didn't even hear me talking to him!" Dean exclaimed, "I don't know what's wrong! Last night he was holding my hand and I thought… I though… maybe he was getting better… that he wasn't going to let what happened… I don't know… get the better of him… but…"

Dean stopped, shaking his head again helplessly.

"Son, I told ya before," Bobby chided, "This ain't gonna clear up in one night. So Sam let ya get close to 'im last night? So what? I'd bet he's in a pretty messed up place right now, Dean, and he ain't gonna come around after just a few hours."

Dean nodded, bowing his head.

"I just thought… maybe since he let me touch him last night… that he'd at least be a little better…"

Bobby pursed his lips, nodding in sympathy.

"I know, Dean," he murmured.

"Give it some time," Bobby told him, "Maybe he'll perk up a bit."

"Okay," Dean said, "I think I can do that."

Bobby gave a wan smile, "Want some more coffee?"

SPN

Bobby followed Dean up the stairs slowly, hoping for the young man's sake that Sam was at least well enough to allow his brother to be close to him. Bobby knew that Dean wasn't expecting Sam to be as he had before he had made his deal with Lilith or even as he was prior to his most recent round of abuse; that was too unrealistic, but allowing Dean to hold his hand or even touch his shoulder would certainly bolster the older brother's confidence and squelch some of his worries.

"Sammy?" Dean called as he pushed open the door and Bobby's eyes went straight to the saucer sitting on the nightstand, the toast on it now cold and soggy; untouched.

Bobby's eyes pinched in concern. Sam was definitely not recovering.

"Dean," the grizzled hunter said and rested a hand on the older sibling's shoulder.

"Sammy," Dean called his brother's name again as the younger brother flinched, eyes squeezing shut.

"What can we do, Bobby?" Dean asked, turning to him, hazel eyes moist, "What can we do to help him?"

Bobby shrugged, "I don't know, Son. I don't know."

Dean grabbed a slice of toast from the saucer and held it out close to his brother's face.

"C'mon Sam," he urged, "You've got to eat something. Please, just a little bit."

"Dean," Bobby said and grabbed the young man's elbow, Sam cringing again, "Let 'im be."

Dean turned, wide-eyed to the grizzled hunter, "What am I supposed to do?! I can't just sit around while Sam starves himself!"

Bobby growled at the impatient younger hunter and tore the piece of toast he held, tossing it irritably onto the saucer. Then, he grabbed Dean's arm and yanked him out the door, closing it behind them.

"It's been one damn day, Son! This ain't gonna clear up so quickly, you know that!" Bobby exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to shake the young man.

"But… but…" Dean stammered, glancing over his shoulder at closed guest bedroom door.

"Sam needs you," Bobby told him, "But he don't need you acting like you did just now."

Dean narrowed his eyes at the older man but then nodded, "Okay… Okay… You're right… Jesus, what's wrong with me?"

Bobby gripped the older brother's shoulder and squeezed, "You just want Sam to be better. I know how you feel; I do too. But this ain't something you can rush, you understand."

Dean sighed and wiped at his eyes.

Bobby's heart went out to the young man. All Dean wanted was his brother to be better and even though Bobby had told him to be patient, he understood the younger hunter's sense of urgency when it came to Sam's recovery.

"C'mon, Son," Bobby murmured to Dean, "Let's go downstairs for a bit."

Dean hesitated, his gaze going to his brother but Bobby persisted.

"He'll be alright," Bobby told him once they were out in the hallway, "Sam knows that he can come down if he wants to."

Dean looked skeptical about that last comment but didn't argue. He obediently followed Bobby to the kitchen once again and poured himself a cup of coffee while the grizzled hunter took at seat at the table, newspaper in hand.

"I wish I was as calm about all this as you," Dean told him, sitting across from Bobby.

The older man gave a wry smile, "I ain't at all calm, Son. I'm panicking on the inside, trying to figure out the best way to help Sam without making things worse for the boy and trying to know what to say to you."

Dean shook his head, not looking amused at all.

"What if… What if he's not going to get better?"

Bobby sighed, swiped his baseball cap off to scratch his reddish hair before replacing the hat.

"Sam's strong," he reminded Dean, "Stubborn as a mule; he won't let this get him down. Not forever, at least. It might take a long while before he's alright and fact is, he may never be perfectly alright again, but he ain't gonna just won't shrivel up and blow away."

Dean took a sip of coffee, "You didn't see his eyes, Bobby. They're blank… it's like he's not even seeing me… or this house…"

The grizzled hunter nodded and reached out to put a hand on Dean's arm. He was quickly running out of comforting words to say.

"If Sam isn't better by this evening," he murmured, "Remember there's always tomorrow."

SPN

Just after noon hour, Dean once again climbed the staircase to the upper floor of the house and stepped into the guest bedroom.

"Hey, Sammy," he murmured to his brother.

The younger man remained still, facing the headboard, giving no indication that he had heard Dean at all.

"I brought you some soup," Dean continued, trying not to be upset by Sam's lack of reaction, "You must be really hungry."

Dean approached the bed, shoving the untouched saucer of toast to one side and sat the bowl of soup down in its place.

"Sammy?" he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees for a moment, "C'mon man, you've gotta eat something."

Dean stood up and ran his hands through his short-cropped hair. He peered down at his brother for a moment and then reached out, cautiously touching Sam's shoulder.

His sibling didn't cringe or whimper. He didn't react to Dean at all in fact.

"Sam?" Dean asked and gently shook his sibling's shoulder, "Sammy?"

Realizing that his brother wasn't going to react to him, Dean sat down beside him on the bed, pulling Sam up.

His little brother moved without resistance, allowing Dean to tug him into a sitting position, Sam's back resting against the headboard.

"Okay," Dean muttered, mostly to himself. He sat back and waited to see if Sam was going to react but was disappointed.

Glancing over and spotting the soup, Dean picked up the bowl and stirred the broth for a moment with the spoon.

Carefully, Dean scooped up some of the soup with the spoon and raised it to his brother's mouth. To his surprise, Sam opened his mouth, allowing Dean to feed him.

The older sibling smiled wanly, shifting slightly to get more comfortable on the bed and spooned some more soup up, offering Sam another mouthful. Even though his sibling still refused to look at him- Sam's eyes were lowered- Dean was starting to feel the fluttering of optimism within him.

Dean held a third spoonful of soup up to his brother's mouth but frowned when Sam turned his head away from him, refusing the food.

"Sammy," Dean said, moving his hand so that the spoon was in front of Sam's mouth again, "Come on, Sammy, you've got to eat."

The younger man continued to keep his mouth shut.

Sighing, Dean set the spoon back down in the bowl.

"Well," he muttered, "That's two bites of soup. I guess it's a start."

Setting the bowl back on the nightstand, Dean turned to his brother again. Reaching out, he carded his hand through Sam's hair, the younger man closing his eyes as Dean performed the gesture, before helping his brother back down onto the bed.

"I'll be back soon, Sammy," Dean said and stood, leaning over to brush his brother's bangs away from his face, "You just get some rest."

W

Bobby had moved from the kitchen- after spending most of the day in the room, drinking coffee to attempt to bolster him after his sleepless night- and now sat at his desk, flipping through a large tome.

"Sam ate," Dean announced and Bobby glanced up, "That's great, Son!"

Dean nodded; although he was pleased his brother was eating, Sam's lack of responsiveness was disturbing. He hoped it wouldn't last long and that his brother would begin to show signs of improvement soon.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked and Dean looked at him, "How says there's anything wrong?"

The grizzled hunter sighed, "I can see it written all over your face."

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face, "Sammy's still hurting."

Bobby peered up at him, his expression concerned.

"What do you mean?"

"He's practically catatonic, Bobby. I managed to get him to sit up and he ate well enough on his own but it was like when he was little and too young to hold the spoon on his own," Dean explained.

The grizzled hunter frowned, "That ain't good."

Dean shook his head, "He doesn't flinch when I touch him anymore but…"

Bobby nodded, sympathetically.

"I said it'd likely take time to-" he began but then Dean interrupted him.

"Maybe Castiel can help him," he suggested, "Maybe he can make Sam forget everything that happened to him."

Bobby though, clearly didn't share the younger man's enthusiasm.

"Dean, that don't sound like a good-" he began but the younger hunter turned away, once again heading outside, "-idea."

SPN

Castiel watched solemnly as Dean Winchester once again.

"I- Sammy- needs your help again," the human said as he approached.

"I healed your brother's injuries," the angel said, "Surely he does not require my assistance again?"

Dean shook his head sadly, "He's still… I don't know… traumatized by what happened… I guess, and he needs help. Can't you… I don't know… make him forget what happened to him… last night and with Lilith? Please. Please say you can."

"I cannot," Castiel told him.

Dean frowned, his expression angry, "Can't or won't?"

"Even if I erased the memories from Samuel's mind, there is always the chance that he could find out what happened to him," the angel explained, "A demon would know what Lilith did to your brother or another hunter may be understandable be surprised at seeing Samuel when he was believed to be dead."

Dean hesitated, "That… I didn't think of that."

Castiel inclined his head, "I know you simply wish for your brother's recovered health but for his future wellbeing, I would advise against tampering with his memory."

"I understand," the hunter muttered, downheartedly.

Castiel felt as though he should say something to comfort the human, give him hope, so he continued.

"It may take time," he told Dean, "But I know that Samuel will recover from the abuse he suffered at the hands of Lilith and her demons. Humans are remarkably resilient creatures; my brothers and sisters could learn from them."

The young man looked up and smiled, "Thanks, Castiel, for everything."

The angel inclined his head in acknowledgement and smiled as he heard the gravel on the driveway crunching beneath Dean's boots as he headed back towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an Iron Maiden song.


	20. I Don't Sleep, I Dream

Dean yawned widely and stretched his arms out above his head, hands hitting the wooden headboard of his bed.

Yellow morning sunlight filtered through the curtains covering the window, heralding the start of a pleasant spring day and Dean felt its call.

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and glanced at his sibling sleeping in the bed next to his. Sam was lying curled in on his side, eyes closed tight, hands scrunched together against his chest.

Dean sighed and stood.

Yesterday had been one unpleasant rollercoaster of emotions. He hoped that today would improve, if only a little bit.

After realizing it would be foolhardy for the angel to erase Sam's memories of the attack and the abuse he'd suffered at Lilith's hands, Dean had returned to his brother's side. He had sat next to Sam on the bed, rubbing his back and murmuring to him comfortingly, letting his brother know that he wasn't going anywhere. Dean didn't know if his actions or words were getting through to Sam but it made him feel somewhat better even if it didn't do anything for his brother.

Later, Dean had managed to coax a few more bites of soup into Sam again before the younger man turned his head away.

Now, Dean was ready to start all over again.

Turning to his brother, Dean reached out and carefully brushed Sam's bangs away from his brow.

"Hey, Sammy," he whispered so as not to startle his sibling.

The younger brother's eyes opened, lowering instantly. Dean smiled despite Sam's lack of response, and reached out, pulling his brother into a sitting position.

"Wanna go downstairs?" Dean asked, "You don't want to stay in bed on a day like this, do you?"

Sam gave no indication that he heard anything his brother had just asked.

"Okay," Dean said, "We're gonna go downstairs."

The older Winchester felt certain that if Sam didn't want to do something, he'd make it known. He already refused to eat if Dean tried to force him to. Standing in front of his brother, Dean reached out and gripped Sam's wrists gently but firmly. Slowly, he managed to tug his brother into a standing position. Releasing his hold on Sam's wrists, Dean waited for a moment, wondering if his brother was going to sit back down on the bed.

Sam however, remained standing, hands at his sides and head bowed.

"Good job, Sammy," Dean said encouragingly, "Let's go downstairs, okay?"

Sam was silent. Dean nodded, biting his lip. He began to back away from his brother, hoping that Sam would follow. Dean reached the end of the bed and waited, breathing a sigh of relief as Sam took two steps forward.

"Okay, Sammy," he said and began walking from the room, hearing the pad of his brother's bare feet behind him.

As they approached the stairs, Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeing Sam about a foot behind him, head lowered, walking like a man on his way to his execution.

Dean frowned but didn't stop. Once he reached the ground floor he stepped to one side so that he wasn't in the way.

"C'mon Sammy," he said, reaching out to touch his brother's shoulder as Sam stepped down from the last stair, "I'll get you some breakfast."

Sam followed Dean into the kitchen; Bobby looking up at the sight of both Winchesters.

"He alright, Dean?" the grizzled hunter asked and Dean nodded, seeing Sam flinch suddenly from the corner of his eye, "I couldn't let him stay in bed any longer."

Bobby nodded and glanced at the younger Winchester sympathetically. Dean didn't really like talking about his brother as though he wasn't in the room, but it was difficult not to, especially when Sam remained so silent and unresponsive.

Dean pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and asked Sam to sit. He did, head bowed, hands still hanging at his sides.

Turning away from his brother, Dean rubbed a hand across his face, trying to think of what he could make Sam for breakfast.

"Dean," Bobby asked, "Mind pouring me some more coffee?"

The older Winchester nodded and took the proffered mug from the older hunter. Again, he saw Sam cringe and he frowned.

"Sammy," he said, reaching out with his free hand to lay his palm against the back of his brother's neck, "It's okay."

Dean's eyes met Bobby's. He could tell that the veteran hunter was thinking the same thing: Why was Sam flinching?

As Dean turned his attention away from his brother to get Bobby some more coffee, the grizzled hunter leaned forward, his elbows on the table as he stared at Sam.

Bobby took the offered mug of coffee Dean had filled up and sipped at the hot liquid for a moment.

"Dean," the grizzled hunter said.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, but Bobby shook his head as Sam flinched, this time actually letting out a whimper.

"Dean," Bobby said again and the younger man frowned, "What are you doing?"

The veteran hunter turned his grey eyes on the younger man's hazel ones, "I think it's yer name, son."

Dean frowned, "What, that's making Sam cringe?"

Bobby nodded. Dean, however, shook his head.

"No, it's not," he protested, "Why would it?"

He pulled Sam's chair out so that he could crouch down in front of his brother, "Sammy? What's wrong, man? Come on, you can tell me."

Dean reached up and tried to raise his brother's head with a hand on his chin but Sam turned his face away.

"Sammy-"

"Dean!" Bobby snapped and the younger Winchester flinched.

Dean didn't move for a long moment, he just stared at his brother.

"Dean," he whispered his own name and elicited the same reaction from Sam.

He looked over at Bobby, at a loss for words.

Why was Sam flinching like this? Why was his name causing his brother so much distress? What had that bitch Lilith done to him now?

"Sammy," Dean murmured, reaching out to hold his sibling's wrist, "Sammy, I'm sorry."

After a moment, Dean stood and glanced again at Bobby.

Why? Dean asked silently, wishing the veteran hunter had an answer.

"Why don't I make y'all something to eat?" Bobby suggested and Dean nodded, "Sure… thanks."

The older Winchester gratefully took a seat beside his brother, peering concernedly at him as Bobby started to make breakfast.

W

"C'mon Sammy," Dean urged, holding out a spoonful of oatmeal towards his brother's mouth, "You've gotta eat some."

Sam turned his face away, refusing to take even one bite.

"Sam," Dean said, his tone more firm, "Just a few bites."

Still, Sam kept his mouth shut tight. Dean sighed and put the spoon back into the bowl. Dean didn't know what to do. His brother had to eat or he'd become sick and that was the last thing Sam needed right now.

Dean set the bowl of oatmeal on the table and stood, raking his hands through his hair.

"Dean!" he heard Bobby call and grimaced as Sam cringed.

"What?" he snapped at the older man.

Bobby, who had been sitting at his desk in the living room, poked his head into the kitchen, "We've got company."

Dean instantly followed his friend into the living room and peered out the bay window to see a dark blue car moving up the driveway.

"Shit," Dean muttered, "Do you know who it is?"

Bobby shrugged, "Could be a civilian or a hunter."

Dean glanced over his shoulder, "I'll take Sammy upstairs."

Bobby nodded, "I'll see iffn I can't keep whoever it is outside."

The younger hunter headed back into the kitchen as he heard the screen door slam, indicating Bobby had already gone outside.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said and grabbed his brother's wrists, urging him to stand.

Sam followed Dean's lead with no resistance and Dean pushed him forward, trying to get him to walk faster.

Dean should have known his brother would pick up on his anxiety but was still startled when Sam hunched his shoulders protectively, wrapping his arms around his middle, whimpering quietly.

"Fuck," Dean swore, "Sorry, Sam, sorry… but we have to go. Now."

The older Winchester looked up as he heard the screen door creak open and two sets of footsteps enter the house.

"Dean!" a female voice called and Sam flinched, crouching down fearfully.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, bending at the knees alongside his brother, "It's okay, it's okay."

He looked up sharply when the owner of the voice stopped in the doorway and saw Jo standing there, mouth open in shock.

"Sam?" she gasped, hand going to her mouth, "Oh my God!"

The girl's exclamation didn't help matters and Sam whimpered, hands held over his head.

Dean wrapped an arm around his sibling's shoulders, trying to comfort him.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed at Jo angrily.

"I… I just…" the young woman stammered, eyes wide.

"Spit it out!" Dean snapped.

Jo took a step back, looking like she was going to start crying.

"What did you do?" she asked, "Dean, what did you do?"

Dean felt his brother trembling and he glanced at Sam.

"I didn't do anything," he said, still looking at his sibling.

"But-" Jo began but Dean held a hand up, "I'll tell you. Just… let me take Sammy upstairs."

Jo Harvelle nodded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Sammy," Dean murmured, "It's okay, c'mon, let's go upstairs."

Gripping his brother's elbows, Dean helped his brother stand. Sam shied away from the female hunter as his brother led him out of the kitchen and Dean couldn't help but think of that petite, fair-haired demon who had been in the house along with Lilith when he'd rescued his sibling.

"It's alright Sammy," Dean muttered comfortingly, "She's not going to hurt you."

He looked up at Bobby who was standing in the living room, "Why'd you let her in?"

The grizzled hunter just looked at him, "That girl's got a temper on her to rival her mother's. She wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer."

Dean shook his head and resigned himself to the fact that someone else was bound to find out about Sam eventually. He guessed he should be glad it was Jo and not one of the assholes Bobby knew and sometimes worked with.

Up in the guest bedroom, Dean had Sam sit down on his bed, taking a seat beside him. He rubbed soothing circles on Sam's back, trying to comfort and calm him.

"It's okay, Sammy," he murmured, "It's just Jo. You remember Jo, right?"

Sam leaned heavily against his brother, shaking. Dean sighed as his brother rested his head against his chest.

After a long moment, Dean carefully stood up and helped Sam lie down. His brother's eyes were open and red-rimmed, his face pale.

"I'll be right, Sammy," Dean told him, "I promise."

He didn't want to leave his brother, not when Sam was so clearly upset and scared, but he needed to talk to Jo.

Heading back downstairs, Dean spoke to Bobby.

"Can you go and sit with Sam?" he asked, not sure if his brother would be as receptive to the older hunter as he seemed to be to Dean but the elder sibling didn't like the idea of leaving Sam alone.

Bobby nodded, pausing to place a hand on Dean's shoulder for a moment before heading upstairs.

W

Dean found Jo in the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, mug of coffee sitting before her, her expression troubled.

The young woman looked up when she heard Dean enter the room and watched as he took a seat in his vacated chair, reaching up to stir the oatmeal he'd been attempting to feed Sam, distractedly.

"What happened?" Jo asked, "He… Sam was dead, wasn't he?"

Dean shook his head, "No, he wasn't."

He heard Jo give a small gasp of surprise and he looked up.

"If he wasn't dead then-" she began but Dean interrupted her.

"He made a deal," he said quietly, "Only it wasn't for his soul."

Jo closed her mouth and nodded, signaling for Dean to continue.

"Sam sold himself into slavery," he said, "In exchange for my life."

Jo said nothing, clearly trying to digest this revelation.

"I didn't know," Dean continued, "I thought he was dead. The demons did a damn good job in making me believe it too."

"And all this time Sam was still alive," Jo said, mostly to herself, trying to come to grips with the fact that the young man she'd thought was gone, wasn't and Dean nodded.

The older Winchester swallowed thickly. He jumped a little when he felt a small, warm hand touch his. Looking up, he saw Jo staring at him, her brown eyes moist.

"What… What did they do to him?" she asked in a whisper.

Dean pulled his hand out from under the girl's. He didn't particularly want to describe every detail of Sam's abuse to Jo, even though she was a friend, some things just had to be kept private.

"They tortured him," he admitted.

"What-" Jo began but Dean shook his head.

The girl frowned, "Can't you tell me? I'm Sam's friend too, you know!"

Dean peered at the girl who looked so young and innocent.

"I know you are," he told her sincerely, "But there are some things that I can't tell you."

Jo opened her mouth but closed it again; the expression on Dean's face convincing her that he wasn't going to be swayed.

"Okay," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

The girl took a long drink of coffee before speaking again.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Dean shook his head, "I don't think so."

Jo looked disappointed. She stood up, "I should go."

Dean didn't know exactly what to say. He didn't really want the girl staying if her presence was upsetting Sam but she clearly was reluctant to leave.

"Drop by sometime," Dean told her, "Maybe in a few weeks? Or call?"

Jo gave him a wan smile, "Sure."

Dean walked with her to the door, startled when Jo suddenly hugged him.

"Give that to Sam for me," she said with a self-conscious smile and turned, walking out the door.

SPN

Bobby headed upstairs, hand on the railing, hoping he'd be able to comfort the younger Winchester.

Reaching the top floor, the grizzled hunter turned down the hallway and peered into the guest bedroom. Sam was lying on his side, eyes open.

"Sam," Bobby said, and stepped into the room, "How're you doing, son?"

Sam blinked but didn't react to the veteran hunter.

Bobby smiled and sat down on the edge of Dean's bed, facing the young man.

"S'alright, son," he said and reached out, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder.

The young man didn't pull away but he also didn't react in any other way either.

Bobby sighed and stood, moving to sit beside Sam on the bed. Sam shifted his head slightly, as though trying to look at Bobby without actually meeting his gaze.

"Oh son," the grizzled hunter muttered, "What are we going to do?"

SPN

Dean opened the bedroom door and peered inside. He smiled at the sight of Bobby sitting on the bed beside his brother, hand lightly gripping the younger man's shoulder.

The veteran hunter looked up, "Jo gone?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

Bobby stood, "Do you wanna try going back downstairs again?"

Dean shook his head, "Nah, I think Sam's had enough excitement for today."

"I'll go an warm up that oatmeal then," Bobby told him, "I'll bring it up when it's ready."

Dean smiled, "Thanks."

He watched as the grizzled hunter left the room, going to his brother's side. He crouched down beside the bed and brushed Sam's bangs away from his brow.

"How you doing, Sammy?" he murmured.

The younger brother did not answer but held his hand out. Dean reached out and gripped his brother's fingers, squeezing gently, smiling.

W

"C'mon Sammy," Dean encouraged, "One more bite, man."

Sam turned his face away from the offered spoon.

"Sammy," Dean almost begged, "Just one more mouthful."

The younger man refused still.

"Please," Dean continued but it was clear that his brother had shut down again.

Sighing, the older Winchester set the spoon down in the bowl. He wiped a hand over his face and stood, lifting the bowl of oatmeal with him.

W

Sam remained upstairs for the rest of the day. Dean spent almost all his time with his brother, comforting him, letting him know that everything was going to alright.

Later, in the evening, Dean took Sam into the washroom and gave him a bath. He would have had Sam take a shower, as he had done the night they returned to the Salvage Yard, but with his brother's catatonic state, Dean felt it safer if he kept an eye on him.

Sam sat in the bottom of the tub, knees pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around his shins.

Dean dipped a washcloth into the warm water, squeezed it and rubbed it gently across Sam's shoulders.

"That feel good, Sammy?" Dean asked, thinking back to when Sam had been an infant and he had helped their Mom give his baby brother baths.

With his free hand, Dean brushed Sam's bangs away from his forehead. Sam wasn't looking at him but he didn't appear to be distressed so the older brother continued his ministrations.

Once the bath was finished and Sam was dressed in clean clothes- a black t-shirt, boxers and grey jogging pants- Dean took him back to the bedroom.

"Why don't you get some rest, Sammy?" he asked his brother, sitting him down on the edge of the mattress.

The young man sat down obediently, head bowed.

Dean sighed and ran his hand through his short-cropped hair.

It had been a long day and Dean had seen no real improvement in his brother. Even though Bobby had told Dean that Sam wasn't going to bounce back in the span of twenty-four hours, the young man couldn't help but feel discouraged. Sam was still catatonic, unresponsive and the only time he reacted was negatively, to Dean's name when he flinched.

"Remember there's still tomorrow," Dean muttered out loud and helped his brother lay down, draping the blanket over his shoulders.

The older Winchester turned and headed slowly downstairs, meeting Bobby's grey eyes and shaking his head helplessly.

"He'll get better, Dean," Bobby told him.

"When?" The older brother asked desperately.

"I don't know, son," the veteran hunter he said truthfully, "I just don't know. I guess only time will tell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from an R.E.M song.


	21. One Step Closer Away

Dean gripped the Impala's steering wheel tightly as he drove through town.

Bobby had asked him to go pick up some groceries as he'd walked into the kitchen with his brother. Dean hadn't wanted to, he had asked why Bobby couldn't do so himself. Dean wanted to stay with Sam.

The veteran hunter, however, had informed the younger man that he was expecting an important phone call from Tokyo and unless Dean knew how to speak Japanese, Bobby wouldn't be going anywhere.

So here Dean was, the Impala's backseat full of plastic grocery bags, wanting nothing more then to get back to the Salvage Yard and his brother.

Bobby had given Dean his word that he'd watch Sam while the older brother was out, and even though the elder Winchester trusted the grizzled hunter, being away from his sibling made him nervous. Even if there was an angel, wards and a tough-as-nails veteran hunter between Sam and anything that would dare threaten him, as soon as Dean was out of sight of his brother, he couldn't help but worry that something awful was going to happen just because he wasn't near Sam.

Dean couldn't even enjoy the classic rock music pumping through his baby's speakers.

Sighing, he wiped released one hand from the steering wheel and wiped a hand over his face, pausing to use that same hand to turn up the Allman Brothers as they sang 'Whipping Post'.

Two days had passed since Jo had unexpectedly visited; making it four days- four and a half- since Sam had been rescued from Lilith's clutches.

And slowly… very slowly, Sam was recovering. The morning after Jo's visit, Sam had started talking, well, sort of. Mostly he muttered in a whispered voice, a 'yes' or 'no' in answer to Dean or Bobby's questions, clamming up if either tried to engage him in more than one-word dialogue.

But it was a start and Dean couldn't ask for more. Despite the little amount of speaking he was doing, Sam still remained for the most part catatonic, not looking Dean or Bobby in the eye and flinching if- by accident- his older brother's name was spoken where he could hear it.

Dean gritted his teeth when he though about exactly why Sam cringed whenever he heard his name. As he drove through the gates of the Salvage Yard, Dean had stopped to ask Castiel about it. He hadn't left Sam's side since Jo's visit- except when his brother was asleep- and hadn't even thought to ask the angel until he was driving past him.

Stopping the Impala and rolling down the window, Dean had asked the angel if he knew why Sam could be having such a reaction to his name, especially when he hadn't acted like that the first time he'd been rescued.

"Your brother was forbidden by Lilith to speak your name," Castiel had replied, causing Dean's brow to furrow in confusion.

"But I thought Sam wasn't allow to talk at all," he had said, "What makes my name so special?"

"Your brother was able to obey Lilith's command while he was conscious and refrained from speaking," the angel explained, "But he could not while he was asleep."

Dean's frown had grown as he thought about his brother's tendency to talk in his sleep, especially if he was under considerable stress.

"Oh no," he had breathed quietly and peered up at the angel standing beside the car, "Sam said my name in his sleep."

Castiel had nodded, "Yes, and Lilith heard. Sam was punished for his transgression and made to promise not to speak your name allowed, to forget you completely, as well, since the demon queen believed you would not be able to recover him."

"What-" Dean had begun to ask then stopped, deciding that he didn't want to know what Lilith had done to his brother for daring to say his name out loud.

The angel looked at Dean, his eyes wide and wet; he knew what had happened to Sam and from his reaction, the older brother was glad he didn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks," Dean muttered and rolled up the window, his own eyes moist.

If Lilith had hurt Sam for saying his name out loud, no wonder his brother hated hearing it.

"Oh Sammy," Dean muttered as he pulled out onto the highway and turned on the radio.

W

Dean pulled in through the gate and as he moved closer to the house he noticed a figure sitting on the front step of the porch.

A figure that certainly wasn't Bobby.

"Sam?" Dean muttered, then his eyes widened in shock.

Sam was sitting by himself, no sign of the grizzled hunter anywhere.

"Damn it, Bobby," Dean swore at the older hunter and stopped the Impala, killing the engine and almost running to his brother's side.

"Sammy!" Dean called, "Where's-"

The older sibling paused, Bobby was there. Dean could see him sitting at his desk through the picture window, talking on the phone while he watched over Sam.

Relaxing, Dean sat down on the porch beside his brother. Sam's head was lowered but his shoulders seemed to lose their tension as soon as Dean came close.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean muttered, "What are you doing out here?"

His brother didn't respond but Dean didn't mind, he'd expected as much. He raised an arm and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders, his brother leaning into him automatically.

"Were you out here the whole time?" Dean asked, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

There was a long pause before he heard a quiet response, "Yes."

The older brother frowned slightly; had Bobby taken Sam outside and left him?

Knowing he would have to wait for the answer from the older man himself, Dean continued talking to his brother, telling about his shopping trip.

"…And I couldn't find that three-bean medley that Bobby just had to have… I mean, there were so many other types of beans on the shelves it took me almost ten minutes to find that…"

Dean paused in his story when the front door opened and Bobby stepped outside.

"You said you'd keep an eye on Sammy," Dean told the man, bristling.

"Aye, and I did," the grizzled hunter replied.

"Why's Sam outside when you were chatting on the phone?"

Bobby, instead of becoming insulted and defensive, smiled.

"Sam came out here all on his own about five minutes after you left," he explained, "Lookin' for you I 'spect."

Dean's mouth dropped open, "By himself?"

Bobby nodded, "I told 'im you'd be back soon but he didn't want to come back in. I figured he could use some fresh air and I was just in the living room. I could see him just fine from the front window."

Dean turned to his brother. Sam had gone outside on his own, by himself. Bobby hadn't had to lead him out to the porch as Dean had been leading his brother around the house the past few days.

Slowly but surely- taking small steps- Sam was getting better.

"I'm so proud of you, Sammy," Dean murmured to his brother and hugged him tightly, feeling his eyes prickle with tears.

"Why don't you two go in and get some breakfast?" Bobby suggested, "I'll deal with the groceries."

Dean nodded and stood, reaching down to his brother.

"C'mon Sammy," he encouraged, wondering if Sam would take his hand.

The older brother felt a lump form in his throat when Sam reached up and gripped his fingers in his own.

Shaking his head in amazement, Dean walked ahead of his brother into the house.

W

Dean took his brother into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for him. Sam sat down obediently and stared at the tabletop, head lowered.

Dean bit his lip and held back a sigh.

"What do you want for breakfast, Sammy? You want oatmeal or toast?"

For a moment Sam said nothing, as though he had to prepare himself to answer and Dean thought he wasn't going to say anything, remembering how his brother mostly still only answered to 'yes' or 'no' questions. But maybe, if he didn't have to reply in a sentence, only one word, Sam would answer.

"Oatmeal," Sam said finally, quietly, and Dean smiled, "Good choice."

Turning around, Dean grabbed the kettle and poured hot water from the tap into it before setting it on the stove and turning up the heat. Going to the pantry he picked up the box of instant oatmeal and measured out the amount needed before dumping it into a bowl. Once the water had boiled, Dean carefully poured the hot liquid into the bowl and stirred the cereal until the oats had soaked it up.

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer and bringing the bowl to the table, Dean sat down, preparing to spoon-feed Sam as he had been doing the past few days. Before he could even start, however, Sam raised a hand and picked up the spoon himself.

"Sammy?" Dean said, shocked and watched as his brother began to eat the oatmeal by himself.

The older brother leaned back in his chair, completely stunned, and tried not to stare at his sibling as Sam ate.

W

Sam remained close to his brother after breakfast. Not that Dean minded, he was just happy Sam didn't resent him for leaving him alone to do Bobby's errands.

"Want to watch some TV, Sammy?" Dean asked as he put his brother's empty bowl in the sink.

Sam didn't reply so Dean repeated the question.

Again, Dean was answered with silence. Trying not to be too perturbed, the older brother shrugged, "Okay, that's okay. We can do something else."

Sam might be getting better, showing improvement but he still had a long way to go until he was completely back to normal.

Dean looked up when Bobby brought the grocery bags into the kitchen and began helping him put the food away.

Silently, Dean reminded himself of all the progress Sam had made thus far. These were huge changes to what Sam had been like only a few days ago and although it was clear he still had a long way to go before he recovered fully, Dean couldn't be happier at the progress he was already making.

"Son. Son? You want that ice cream to melt?"

Bobby's voice jolted Dean from his thoughts and he glanced down at the tub of vanilla ice cream he was holding.

"Uh… no," he replied, sheepish, "Sorry, Bobby."

The grizzled hunter smiled as though he knew exactly what Dean had been thinking about. Bobby reached out and Dean handed him the ice cream.

Checking on Sam, Dean saw that he remained sitting at the kitchen table, head bowed, bangs covering his eyes.

Dean sighed and turned away. Bobby reached out and gripped his wrist, squeezing it.

"Yer brother's gonna get through this. He's already starting to come back to us, just keep being patient."

Dean smiled at Bobby's words and nodded, "I know, Bobby, I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a song by The Tea Party.


	22. When The Sour Turns Sweet

After all the groceries were put away, Dean returned his attention back to his sibling.

Moving to his brother's side, the older sibling reached out and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder.

The younger man lifted his head ever so slightly, though he still didn't look at Dean, it was clear that he was focused on his brother.

"Want to go back outside, Sammy?" Dean asked; it was such a nice day that he didn't really want to hang around inside, and besides, he wanted his brother to get as much fresh air and sunshine as possible, hoping that it would help him continue feeling more and more comfortable.

Sam lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

"Well, I want to go out," Dean said, "And I'd like you to come with me."

He didn't really want to force Sam to do something he didn't want to but it seemed as though his brother had shut down again. Removing his hand from Sam's shoulder, Dean took his wrist and pulled, urging him to stand.

Sam got up from the chair with no resistance, hand limp in Dean's hold and followed his brother towards the door. Dean held back a sigh, disappointed that Sam seemed to have slipped back into his catatonic state again but told himself that it would pass.

The older Winchester nodded to Bobby as they passed by, the grizzled hunter scribbling on a notepad as he sat at his desk, and opened the front door.

It was a beautiful May morning; the sky was a deep, cloudless blue, the sun a warm, yellow ball, the breeze balmy.

Dean stopped at the bottom step of the porch and sat down, Sam following suit, hands dangling between his knees.

The older sibling leaned back; face turned towards the sky and closed his eyes. It was rare that the brothers ever got a chance just to relax and enjoy… anything. And despite the difficulty of the past few days, Dean was grateful to be given this reprieve.

"Remember when we were little, Sammy?" Dean began quietly, "And Dad would drop us off here… You were always so excited to stay with 'Uncle' Bobby you never wanted to leave…"

The older brother paused for a long moment. He knew Sam was still beside him, could feel his brother's leg pressed against his own.

"Remember that one summer when it was so hot, ninety degrees or something, and Bobby set the sprinkler up in the backyard? We didn't even have any swimming trunks but that didn't matter, we just ran through it in our t-shirts and shorts."

Dean smiled, recalling the sight of his little brother, barely out of his toddler years, shirt and shorts plastered to his chubby arms and legs, running back and forth across the cool water shooting out from the sprinkler, giggling joyfully.

Dean's heart ached at the thought of that little boy, so happy and carefree, whose only concern was what their 'uncle' was going to make them for lunch when they went inside. That child was long gone. Sam, who had always somehow managed to retain a piece of childlike innocence- despite what they did almost everyday of their lives- had had that endearing and enduring quality dashed to pieces by Lilith and her cronies during the past year. Dean didn't even know if that kind Sam still existed, or if it was gone forever, the sense of awe and wonder about the world, that innocence, shattered beyond repair. Dean knew that even if his brother appeared to be getting better, moving forward after everything that had happened to him, he knew that Sam would never really be the same again.

Dean jumped suddenly when he felt his brother's hand rest on his own for a moment and he opened his eyes.

You're strong too, Dean thought and smiled, you didn't let this destroy you completely, did you Sammy?

Despite Dean's pessimistic thoughts, he knew that while Sam may never fully recover from what had been done to him at the hands of Lilith and her demons, he wasn't going to let that stop him altogether. He was making progress- slowly but surely- every single day and that was good enough for Dean. He didn't expect Sam to not be affected by what had happened, and carry around those affects- he'd be more concerned if his brother wasn't- but he knew that Sam, being the stubborn way he was, would not be so easily stopped by them.

SPN

Bobby smiled at the sight of the Winchester brothers sitting side by side on his front porch, enjoying the pleasant weather, as though they didn't have a care in the world.

The grizzled hunter turned away from the window, not wanting to be caught spying and couldn't help but think about the first time he had met the Winchesters.

Sam had been very young, just starting to walk, and had been practically glued to his older brother's side. John had left the boys in a hurry, eager to head to Hot Springs to follow up on the lead he'd had on the monster that had killed his wife. The lead, as it turned out, had come in the form of a newspaper article describing the death of a family from Hot Springs, South Dakota who had perished in a fiery blaze during the night. At the time the fire department had had no idea what had caused the fire and that was what had caught the younger hunter's attention.

Bobby would have gone with John but with no one to watch over the ex-mechanic's young sons, the older hunter had decided that Sam and Dean needed him more than their father did.

Dean, still in Kindergarten, had been wary of the grizzled hunter from the start. He wasn't the most trusting child, especially since his mother's death, and had kept himself- and little Sammy- at a distance from Bobby.

The youngest Winchester though, at first shy, quickly warmed up to Bobby, releasing Dean's hand to toddle after the veteran hunter as he made his way into the kitchen.

Sam, who was just learning the ins and outs of walking, had become overexcited and had tried to run to Bobby, tripping over his own uncoordinated feet to fall and dash his chin against the hardwood floor. Dean, of course, had rushed forward to comfort his brother but Bobby arrived first. Scooping up the infant, Bobby had murmured soothingly to Sam, rubbing his back somewhat awkwardly until the boy quieted. Dean had watched the procedure quietly, clearly judging Bobby on his ability to look after his brother.

Bobby had apparently passed the test and within the span of two days had both brothers trailing after him like a mother hen. When John returned from Hot Springs, tired and disappointed- the fire had been found to be the result of faulty wiring in the victims' home and not a supernatural entity- Sam was reluctant to go with him. Cuddled in Bobby's arms, the tyke had turned his head away from John as his father reached out for him.

Dean managed to convince Sam to let go of Bobby and instead walked hand-in-hand with him out to the Impala.

At first Bobby was certain the young father was going to be upset by the way his son had acted but John just looked relieved that Sam had been so attached to the veteran hunter at all.

Bobby thought that was the last time he'd see the family Winchester but only a few weeks later was surprised to find the youngsters on his porch again, their father driving away in a plume of dust from the driveway as he headed out on another hunt.

The grizzled hunter shook his head as he once more gazed at the two young men on his porch. It had been a rocky start at first but in no time at all the brothers had grown to love Bobby and he, them. Now, for better or worse, Sam and Dean Winchester were as close to Bobby Singer as though they were his own sons.

And, like his own sons, Bobby worried about them.

Even though Bobby knew how patient and caring Dean could be when it came to his brother, the older sibling's compassion and understanding never ceased to amaze him. Sure, Dean wanted Sam to get better- Bobby did too- but he was able to keep his impulsive and pushy attitude in check and let his brother move forward at his own pace.

Bobby was stunned at Sam's ability to recover as well. Though he still had a long way to go, Sam was showing genuine signs of improvement. Bobby knew that it wouldn't have been the same if he didn't have Dean by his side.

Bobby thought back to the night Dean had arrived at the Salvage Yard, grief-stricken and lost, and recalled his own numb sense of sadness upon being told that Sam was dead. How completely different he felt now. Those dark feelings seemed as though they belonged to someone else, not him, as pride and hope stirred within him at the sight of the younger Winchester, bruised but definitely not broken.

The hunter was interrupted in his nostalgia by the telephone and he grabbed it from the cradle, grunting a greeting:

"What?"

Bobby sighed as Rufus Turner snarled his own unpleasant pleasantry and turned away from the window to listen to his old friend.

SPN

That evening, long after the younger Winchester had gone to sleep, Dean and Bobby sat up, drinking beers and watching mindless television.

As a commercial for Biggerson's restaurants came on, interrupting the program, Dean spoke up.

"I think we should get Sammy another dog."

Bobby looked at the younger man, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"Sam's still hardly talking," Dean continued, "And he still refuses to look at anyone."

Bobby nodded in agreement, "Chester did real wonders for Sam before… mayhaps having another dog can bring him out of his shell this time too."

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" Dean exclaimed happily.

"What kind of dog should we get?" the younger hunter asked eagerly, "A Labrador, like before, or something different."

"Why don't we let Sam decide?" Bobby offered and Dean looked at him, confused, until he explained.

"The a no-kill shelter downtown, the one where we got Chester? Well, I think we should take yer brother and let him choose his dog."

Dean shook his head, "I don't know, Bobby. Sam… you know how he is still and… what if he zones out while we're there or something?"

Despite Dean's nerves, Bobby smiled, "It'll be alright, Son. Trust me."

The younger man thought on the idea for a long moment before he finally nodded.

Dean smiled, thinking about how happy and exited Sam was going to be when they went to pick out a new dog.

SPN

Bobby was certain that Dean was more excited about going to the shelter then his brother since Sam barely reacted upon hearing the news.

Sam simply continued eating the toast Dean had made for him slowly, head bowed, and hair covering his eyes.

"Sam? Sammy," Dean asked, concerned, one hand on his brother's shoulder.

"If you don't want to go, just say so," the older brother said, "We're not making you, are we Bobby?"

The grizzled hunter looked up from his newspaper.

"Nah," he said, "If you'd rather stay here, yer brother and I can go and get you one."

Bobby saw the stricken look on Dean's face as he spoke and he mentally kicked himself. The younger man was still wary about leaving his sibling all alone, especially after what had happened when he'd gone with Bobby to get those car parts needed from Belle Fourche.

"Or I can go," he amended.

Sam sat his half-eaten piece of toast on the saucer, "No."

Dean looked at his sibling; apparently Sam wasn't about to be left behind this time while his brother and Bobby went to go find him another dog. Dean smiled nervously, glad that Sam wanted to go but anxious about him being in public when he clearly still had a long road to recovery.

Just deal with it, Dean told himself, if anything happens, just deal with it.

"Let's all go," he said finally, smiling grimly.

SPN

Dean smiled at the alarmed expression on the angels face as he drove the Impala towards the gate.

The young man rolled down the window as he stopped the Chevy, "We're going into town for a little bit to get Sammy a new dog."

The angel frowned, "Do you think it wise?"

Dean smiled, "We all have those Enochian sigils on our ribs and it's not like we're going on a road-trip. It takes fifteen minutes to get to town."

Castiel did not look convinced; "Enochian sigils will not protect you from an angel if they find you."

"Then why don't you come with us?" Dean suggested, "For extra protection."

The angel paused, "If you insist on all three of you leaving then I suppose I must."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head as Castiel disappeared from the driveway, only to reappear in the classic Chevy's backseat beside Sam.

W

Dean grinned charmingly at the petite redheaded girl who greeted them as they entered the shelter. She introduced herself as Claire, and told them that she was a volunteer.

The reception area of the shelter was clean, though it smelled faintly of dog, and the Winchesters could hear faint sounds of barking coming from the back room.

"Are you looking for any dog in particular? We have many different breeds," Claire told them as the group followed her to where the dogs were kept.

"We're just looking," Dean told her vaguely.

Sam stayed close to his brother as they followed the redhead, clearly nervous. Dean understood, and kept one hand on his brother's elbow as they walked and the contact seemed to reassure his younger sibling somewhat.

Bobby and Castiel brought up the rear, the angel staring wide-eyed at the double rows of kennels that took up the back room.

Dogs of all shapes and sizes barked at the humans, jumping up against the doors, tails wagging with excitement.

Dean noticed that the majority of the animals were adults; many of the puppies already having been adopted.

Claire stopped and gestured widely, "Well, here we are. You can take a look around. I'll be up front if you need anything. Let me know when you make a decision."

Dean smiled at the girl and nodded, "We will."

Once the redhead was gone, Dean turned to his brother, "Okay, Sammy, see anyone you like?"

The younger sibling had his head bowed so that his bangs flopped over his eyes and Dean wondered how he could see anything like that but didn't try and brush Sam's hair away from his face or lift his head. If it made Sam more comfortable then Dean wasn't going to stop him, he knew that the behaviour would pass in time.

Sam slowly left his brother's side, peering into each of the kennels as he walked by.

Dean paused in front of a kennel with a Jack Russell Terrier inside and bent down, scratching the dog's ears through the chain-link of the cage.

The young man looked up to see Castiel in the middle of a staring contest with a Great Dane that was almost as tall as he was. The angel tilted his head to the side and the dog mimicked the action before jumping back, giving a happy bark and wagging its tail.

Castiel reached out a hand and laid it against the chain-link of the kennel, his palm against the Great Dane's large, wet nose.

Dean chuckled and stood, searching for his brother. He caught sight of Sam at the far end of the room, crouched in front of a kennel.

"Looks like Sammy's found a new friend," Dean said and headed down the aisle to where his brother was.

The younger Winchester was scratching the head of a mutt. The dog had shaggy, sand-coloured fur that grew lighter to cream on its throat and belly. The animal had the same distinct markings that were common to Huskies, though instead of black, the fur was chestnut brown. Floppy triangular ears, pointed nose, bushy tail and blue eyes completed the mixed-breed dog.

Dean could see that the animal was elderly, grey fur radiated out from its muzzle and around its eyes. It's tail wagged slowly back and forth with pleasure as Sam continued to scratch its dome-shaped head.

Laying a hand on his brother's shoulder, Dean smiled. The dog really was beautiful, and good-natured, the perfect fit for his younger sibling.

"Are you sure you want this one?" Dean asked and Sam nodded once.

"I'll go get Claire," Bobby announced and left the brothers and Castiel.

The angel looked at the old dog, curiously.

"She likes your brother," Castiel told Dean matter-of-factly and the young man nodded, "Yeah, look at her tail wagging."

The angel tilted his head; "She feels a connection with him. She too was abused."

Dean looked at Castiel for a long moment, "Oh."

"Animals know far more then what humans give them credit for," the angel said, "Surely you've come to notice that certain species are able to sense the presence of monsters in the area when you are hunting?"

Dean thought back to one case in particular, not long after Sam had left Stanford, when he and his brother had been looking for a shapeshifter. A neighbor of the victim had had a dog and, Dean remembered being told that the animal had once been friendly though when he had seen it, the pet had been snapping and slobbering, the complete opposite because it could still sense a threat in the area that was undetectable to humans.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, "I have."

"Hey!" Claire called suddenly as she and Bobby walked down the hall, the volunteer holding a collar and leash in one hand, "You've decided?"

Dean nodded, "We'll take this one."

Claire smiled when she saw which dog the Winchesters wanted, "She's a real sweetheart."

"She's been here for months," Claire explained as Sam stood up, backing away so she could open the door to the kennel, "No one's wanted to adopt her because of her age."

"How old is she?" Dean asked curiously.

Claire paused, "Eleven. That's alright with you, isn't it?"

Dean nodded, "Of course."

Claire opened the kennel door and started rubbing the dog's head, "She's a mutt. We're sure she has some Husky and Golden Retriever in her… maybe even German Shepherd but we're not completely certain."

Dean watched as the redhead expertly put the collar around the dog's neck and attached the leash.

"She has arthritis in her hips so she won't like long walks," Claire continued, "All she wants to do is cuddle."

The redhead handed the leash to Dean, "You'll just have to fill out some paperwork and then Ginger is yours."

"Ginger?" Dean asked.

Claire smiled somewhat sheepishly, "That's just what we call her around here but you can change her name if you want."

W

Dean couldn't help but smile every time he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Sam stroking the dog's thick fur, the ghost of a smile on his face.

As soon as they had left the shelter, Dean had taken off the dog's leash and wasn't surprised to find that the animal had stayed close to Sam's side as though she had always been with him.

"Are you going to keep her name or change it?" Dean asked his sibling and Sam shrugged.

"She wouldn't mind if you gave her a different name, Samuel," Castiel piped up and Dean glanced at the angel.

The dog was practically sitting on Sam's lap, pink tongue lolling out, eyes half-closed with pleasure as the young man scratched the fur at her neck.

Sam leaned forward and rested his face against the dog's back, breathing in the scent of her shaggy fur.

Bobby, sitting in the front passenger seat, looked over his shoulder and chuckled.

"What a motley crew we are," he muttered happily; glad that his idea had worked and Sam now had something that would continue to help him heal from the injuries he had suffered at the hands of Lilith and her minions.

W

Once they had returned to the Salvage Yard, Sam, Dean and the new dog sat out on the porch; the older brother trying to think up names for the canine.

"Cinnamon?" he offered and Sam shook his head.

"Uh… Butterscotch?" The dog glanced over at Dean as if to say, 'do you only think about food?'

"Maybe you should just keep her name," Dean suggested as Sam continued to reject the ones he came up with, "Ginger's not all that bad."

Sam stared at the dog for a long moment, deep in thought. He smiled when the animal licked his face playfully and told his brother his decision.

"Hope," he muttered.

"Hope?" Dean repeated to make sure he had heard correctly.

Sam nodded and Dean smiled, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"That's a great name for her, Sammy," he said and reached out to pat Hope's head.

SPN

Sam opened his eyes slowly, carefully and stared at the shape in the bed across from his. Dean was fast asleep- Sam could hear him snoring slightly- no idea that his younger sibling was awake.

Sam stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, just listening to his brother quietly.

The young man could smell the earthy scent of coffee wafting into the room from the kitchen downstairs, brining with it a strong craving for the dark, hot liquid. Sam hadn't had coffee in what seemed like ages and wanted one badly.

Glancing to his right, Sam frowned. Dean might worry if he woke up and found him missing. Sam had gotten into the habit of sleeping later then he usually did, waking up later then even Dean sometimes or waiting until his brother was up himself, often picking Hope up and depositing her on the bed with him since her arthritis made it difficult for her to jump.

The scent of fresh-brewed coffee was too hard to resist though and Sam sat up.

Hope lifted her head and stood slowly from where she had been laying in the bedroom doorway- her favourite place to sleep- and made her way over towards Sam.

The young man reached down and scratched in between the dog's ears before standing and making his way out of the bedroom, Hope padding along behind him.

SPN

Bobby Singer settled into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, newspaper and cup of coffee in hand, ready for a bit of relaxation.

Two weeks had passed since Sam had been rescued from the demon queen's clutches a second time and the younger hunter was slowly starting to come around; his recovery sped up by the fact that they had recently acquired a new member of the family of a canine nature.

Although Sam still had a long way to go before he would be his old self again- if he would ever make it that far- having Hope around clearly made a difference to him.

Still anxious and prone to allowing Dean to lead him around if he felt things were too much and he closed himself off, Sam was never seen without the elderly dog by his side. Sometimes, Bobby would catch the young man, face buried in the animal's soft fur, murmuring to her and the veteran hunter knew Sam was talking to the dog about what he had gone through, telling her things he couldn't- or wouldn't- tell his brother or him, just as he had with Chester.

Sam had even begun to make eye contact periodically with Bobby and his brother. It never lasted very long, a couple of seconds before he lost his nerve, but it was a huge improvement to the young man who went around with his head constantly lowered, hair obscuring his eyes.

The younger Winchester was still very quiet though, rarely speaking- at least not to Bobby or Dean- and had trouble with his brother's name.

One day, Bobby recalled, shortly after they had adopted Hope, Sam had wanted to get his brother's attention from across the living room. He had been about to call Dean's name as he always had but then stopped, flinching and shrank into himself.

Dean, trying to not to make a big deal out of it, had told his brother to call him Batman, using the hero's familiar rough tones to voice his request. That had gotten Sam to smile just a little but Bobby knew that it was still a sore spot for the young man.

But despite all that Sam was visibly making a comeback.

Bobby smiled and took a sip of coffee. He looked up from his paper when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs; Dean must be awake.

It was not the older Winchester who entered the kitchen and offered a 'good morning' to the veteran hunter.

Bobby spluttered on his coffee as Sam entered the room, greeting him.

"Good morning to you too, Son," the grizzled hunter replied, smiling widely.

He watched without comment as the younger hunter took two mugs from the cupboard and proceeded to make coffee for himself and his brother.

Bobby jumped slightly when he felt Hope lay her chin against his leg and he reached down to scratch behind the elderly dog's ears.

SPN

Sam carefully poured coffee into each of the mugs, the once-familiar gesture feeling new and strange after not performing them for a little over a year. The actions of pouring coffee, measuring milk and sugar, something people did on a daily basis without much thought, relaxed Sam and gave him a sense of normalcy and security.

Once the coffees were ready, Sam left the kitchen, walking slowly so as not to spill a drop, and headed back upstairs.

Hope followed along behind Sam, making her way up the staircase as slowly as he was, her arthritis worse in the mornings.

Dean was stirring from sleep just as Sam stepped into the bedroom. He woke groggily, glancing to his brother's empty bed before he caught sight of Sam in the doorway, holding two coffee mugs.

"Sammy?" he muttered and rubbed his eyes, "Did you… You didn't go downstairs by yourself and get us coffee, did you?"

Dean's expression turned to one of shock when Sam smiled and stepped forward, handing him the mug of black coffee.

Hope sat down beside the bed, looking up at Dean with her clear blue eyes, begging to be petted.

The older brother obliged the dog; stunned that Sam had actually gone to the kitchen on his own to bring him a coffee.

"You're amazing," Dean told the canine, "You know that?"

Hope opened her mouth, giving the hunter a toothy dog grin.

W

Sam avoided his brother's surprised look as he ate the bacon and eggs Bobby had made for breakfast, having passed on the toast or oatmeal he had eating as the most important meal of the day.

"Come here," Dean said, waving a piece of bacon in the air at knee-height to get Hope's attention, "You deserve this."

The dog gently took the bacon from the young man's fingers before gobbling it down, blue eyes pinned on Dean's face in case he decided to give her more.

"Don't feed that dog at the table," Bobby grumbled.

Dean shrugged and returned to his own breakfast.

SPN

Dean smiled at the sight of his brother curled up on the couch with the dog. Both were watching what looked like a documentary on wolves. It was only the two brothers at the house, Bobby having left for Madison just after breakfast to help another hunter find out what was killing co-eds at Dakota State University, and expected to be absent for the next few days.

Taking a seat on the other end of the couch, Dean cleared his throat.

"How're you feeling, Sammy?"

The question, which would have been a stupid one, if asked only weeks ago, now didn't seem all that ridiculous with the progress Sam was making. Even though his brother was getting better, Dean knew what had happened to his brother would completely be forgotten, and he wanted to make sure that Sam knew he was there for him.

"Okay," Sam muttered, "Better."

Dean nodded, wishing his brother would feel comfortable enough to have an actual conversation with him rather than answer in one or two words; he supposed that would come with time though. At least Sam felt he was safe enough to talk at all.

"That's good," Dean agreed, "I'm glad."

There was a pause in which Dean wasn't sure what to say next.

"You know… if ever you need to talk… I mean… with someone who doesn't have fleas, I'm here," Dean said finally, joking gently.

Sam smiled, his gaze lowering to look at Hope.

"I know."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, well… I'll let you get back to your show."

Sam didn't lift his head to look at him as Dean stood and retreated, feeling uncomfortable.

Instead of staying inside, Dean ventured into the yard, walking around the scrap cars towering in unsteady piles.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted his brother to feel as though he could talk to him, like he used to when they were kids.

Did Sam think Dean was going to judge him over something he had no control over?

Did Sam think Dean was going to hate him- leave him- if Sam opened up to him about what had happened to him?

Dean might not have been there but he knew what Lilith and her goons had done, had seen it first hand when that demon had attacked Sam in the guest bedroom.

Dean shook his head, no, Sam knew he could tell him anything and he wouldn't hold it against him. Sam just wasn't ready to talk.

And he might never be ready, Dean thought, what Lilith and her cronies did to Sam wasn't like what happened before and he has every right not to talk about it with me if he doesn't want to.

Dean just didn't want his brother to feel as though he couldn't talk to him.

SPN

Sam wasn't watching the documentary any more. He sat, fingers carding through Hope's shaggy coat, thinking.

Sam knew that he could tell Dean anything- had been able to since they were kids- but he just wasn't ready. Not yet. He knew that he could tell his brother what had happened to him when he'd been captured by Lilith for the second time… only he wasn't sure he would. Some things were best left unsaid. But just knowing that Dean was there, willing to listen, made all the difference to Sam.

The younger Winchester felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought about good his brother had been to him during the past couple of weeks, how patient, caring, even after everything that had happened. Dean had stayed by his side the entire time, not judging or showing anger, just letting Sam know he was there for him, not matter what.

The young man didn't know what he would have done if his brother had gone to Hell. He'd have been all alone. Sam used to think that he didn't need his brother around, that he didn't want Dean around, but he was wrong. Sam needed his big brother; he wanted his big brother with him.

The younger Winchester knew he'd never be able to live in a world that didn't have his older brother in it.

Glancing at Hope, Sam sighed, wiping his face, and stood. He needed to talk to Dean… really talk to him.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Sam left the living room, heading outside to look for his brother.

SPN

Dean looked up, surprised when Hope found him resting in the front seat of a dilapidated T-Bird, and began barking.

"Where's Sam?" the young man asked and reached down to pet the dog.

Hearing footsteps approach, Dean saw his brother following the sounds of the dog's barking.

"Hey, Sammy," the older brother greeted, "Didn't want to watch TV anymore?"

Sam shook his head. He looked nervous. He was wringing his hands together and his gaze was cast downward.

"Sam? Are you okay?" Dean asked, suddenly concerned, and got out from the car.

His brother nodded and looked up, smiling slightly.

"Y-Yeah," he assured him, "I… wanted to… talk to you."

Dean looked at his brother expectantly, "Okay, okay just take a deep breath."

Sam nodded again, taking a moment to gather himself.

"I th-thought about what you said," Sam began and Dean's eyes pinched.

"No, Sammy, if you don't want to talk about what happened you don't have to. I won't make you, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable-" he began but his sibling interrupted him.

"I know," he told Dean, "And… I want to talk… about some things… but… not everything…"

The older brother nodded, "I understand."

"What… what I really wanted to s-say," Sam started again, clearly forcing himself to speak, "W-Was that… If I could go back and… and make that same choice again… make that s-same deal again… I would…"

Dean frowned, not knowing what to say.

"I… I don't know if… if you're angry at m-me for what I did but I d-don't care… I wouldn't change what happened…" Sam continued, lifting his gaze to look his brother in the face, his green eyes moist.

"You've always looked after me… out for me… and it was m-my turn to do the same for you. So, you can be pissed at me if you want… but I would always d-do it the exact same way if given the choice."

Dean felt tears well up in his own eyes at his brother's pronouncement. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; he couldn't believe that Sam would be willing to endure all the abuse, all the torture he had suffered over the past year just to save him if he could have a do-over.

"Sammy," Dean said, "I don't hate you. I never hated you for doing what you did."

The younger brother looked as though an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he sighed, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

Dean stepped forward and pulled his sibling into a tight hug, stunned at how selfless his little brother was.

"I'm g-gonna get better," Sam mumbled with his face pressed against Dean's shoulder, "I a-am getting better."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, you are, Sammy. And I'm going to be with you every step along the way. I'm never going to abandon you, Sam. Never."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from a Genesis song.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title comes from a Rush song.


End file.
